Atonement
by Manic Fanboy Yaz
Summary: A while after the Meteor incident, Aerith and Sephiroth have been resurrected, how long has it been, why are they here, and when will they be granted their peace? - AerisSephiroth pairing.
1. Darkness

**Author's Notes: **Just a few quick things…

I do not own any of the characters depicted below unless I explicitly state otherwise, Final Fantasy VII and all characters within it belong to SquareEnix. Before you read this, I suggest you give Noacat's Tranquillity a read. The story heavily inspired this, and you might notice that the flashbacks ahead refer to the story, if you've read it. They're not pivotal, and I think I've given enough detail that the story stands up on its own, but it might give you a better understanding of where I'm coming from if you do. Sorry about how short the first few chapters will be. I'm still not quite sure where I'm going with the story, so I'm just introducing the characters, how I've interpreted them, and they're reactions to their rather strange circumstances. Last, but not least, please, please, review me. Any indication of whether or not you like my work, suggestions for where I should take it and how long I should take to get there, or just comments on whether or not I should bother continuing would be greatly appreciated. Thanks. Now… on with the show… 

**Chapter 1: Darkness.**

Emerald green eyes drift open, light shone in, accompanied with a dull, throbbing feeling. Pain. A feeling long since forgotten. _But how long?_ At first all that was known was that soft, constant agony, until memories began to return. Faces, names, events, friends, enemies, and others with whom the line between love and hatred was blurred, to what extent a Cetra could hate, at least. It took a while for all her memories to return. She was Aerith Gainsborough, the last Cetra, a martyr, and she could once again feel the cold, sharp pain of a sword piercing through her. Sephiroth. He was the one who had killed her, though it had been her own fault…

 A young girl awoke after a horrible dream. They said that you could never die in a dream, and she wished it was true, her dreams all the more disturbing for the fact that she knew they were true, a foretelling of things to come. The same dream had come to her many times before, enough that she knew, far better than she wanted, how she would die, who would kill her. Despair wasn't Aerith's way, however, so she took a moment to calm herself before preparing herself for the day ahead. A day that would be like the last, and the one that followed, selling flowers in the gloomy streets of the Midgar Slums.

Today, however, would not be the same as those that went before. As Aerith walked her way to the corner where she usually sold her flowers she passed someone that caught her eye. A young man clad in a black coat and boots contrasting with pale skin, and hair, white as death, that flowed straight back over his shoulders, down his back, aside from a pair of bangs, framing his face at the front. Entirely black and white, it seemed as if the only colour to be seen on him was his eyes – an unnaturally brilliant green, almost seeming to glow. Mako eyes. Her own eyes widened in recognition. It was _him._ The man who would murder her. She froze. Only able to continue on her way when she had gone. Thank god he had gone.

After that, however, the man, no older than herself, had taken an interest in her. For reason's she could only fully understand years later, he had almost obsessed over her, hunting her down, demanding her attention. And she, in her fear, had avoided him, sought protection from what few friends she had, friends in high places, who _could_ protect her. After all, who would want the company of the man who would eventually kill them? Over time, though, she had learned from her protectors, Tseng amongst others, that the white-haired boy was Sephiroth, the youngest, most powerful of Soldier's generals. Worse, she had learned from the Planet, what Sephiroth was. Genetically altered to be the perfect warrior, was what they called him. He had been altered with DNA from Jenova, the… being that had killed her kind. What part of him was human would slowly succumb to the sickness that was Jenova, taking away his very soul, until he sought, under Her control to destroy the world – with her life as the sacrifice for averting the crisis.

It wasn't long after that that Sephiroth had managed to contact her, and Aerith had learned it was too late to help him. For her own fear, she had let herself fall into a series of events that would lead to Midgar's destruction and her own death.

She had failed. Oh, she had succeeded, at least, with the help of Cloud and the others, in stopping Meteor, saving the Planet, achieving the proverbial Greater Good, but that could hardly be considered success – thousands had died in the destruction of Midgar, her own death aside, and due to her cowardice, yet another soul had been utterly destroyed by Jenova, that of a silver-haired boy she had known five years ago. Or more… how long _had_ it been? She looked quietly around. She was in the Ancient Forest, which didn't help at all, for this place never changed…

And then something dawned on her - she was alive. A quiet pause, as the reality of this settled in, and she began to cry, but they were not tears of joy...

**-End Chapter 1-**


	2. Light

**Chapter 2: Light.**

Meanwhile, another pair of emerald green eyes opened. A pair that had just as little right to open as the last. _Where am I?_ He was still too fatigued from the sudden awakening to take in his surroundings. Pain. Unlike the other, this one could never forget the pain. His strength returned quickly and he seemed to remember that it had always been thus – he had been renowned for his endurance and quick healing. He reached out to take hold of something, and hauled himself to his feet. Looking around, now he could see what must have once been a city, but had long since met its destruction, ruined buildings covered in vines, covered in plant life inside and out. He had been dead, he remembered, and smiled softly, glad to be alive again, then his eyes trailed to the ground, caught sight of a skull, cracked and charred, this place had not died peacefully, and everything came back…

A teenage boy fought to keep hold of his sanity, and it was a losing battle. As he followed the flower girl… Aerith, he remembered her name was, to the church. No one saw him, however, it wouldn't do for him to simply waltz on in there and say hello. Damn Tseng had put Turks everywhere, it had been a real task even to get this close. He had to, though, she was Cetra, she must know who… what he was. More than a man, less than human. Why did the Turks want to keep him from her? _They are right to, she is dangerous, your enemy._ There was the voice, he often wondered what it was, everyone he had asked back at headquarters had put it down to mental illness – an expression of his own subconscious, they said. They were wrong, he could feel it. The voice was… alien, always goading him to hurt and destroy, robbing him of his humanity.

_Kill her! Choke her! Bleed her! See if she's as pretty inside as out…_ He could imagine himself doing it, too, a strange thrill passing through him, balanced by sheer disgust, as he felt tiny neck between his fingers, soft, firm, yet so easy to snap… but it was much more enjoyable to choke the life awa- _No!_ recoiling from the thoughts, had they been fantasy or reality? Only one way to be sure, he bit into his arm, green eyes flaring with a manic light, saw the blood drip from the wound he created. Dropped to his knees. He had tried to kill her. _And rightly so…__ No! Kill! Shut up! So pretty.. Snap her! Never! Too pure, innocent… mustn't hurt her. _He was rocking back and forth now, and strangely, Aerith reached out to him, but he recoiled, not worthy of her touch. Eventually, however he had caved, let her heal the wound in his arm. Begged her to let him know who, what he was. She had told him, or rather shown him how to find out. He had not liked the answers, and there had been no way to change the course of fate, his humanity already too diminished by the time he was given the chance for redemption.

Why had he been so obedient to ShinRa in the early years? Well, he knew the answer well enough – he hadn't known his own strength, didn't understand that, had he wished, he could have destroyed them all, chosen his own life. But would he have, given the knowledge? They had raised him, he had known nothing else, until She had taken his mind. _If only Aerith had…_ and then the full gravity of what he had done sunk in, he had slaughtered hundreds, thousands, ruined lives and taken others, and he had killed her – the one person who had tried to save him, the one pure soul that had been left in the world. He felt… he didn't know how to describe it, until he realised it must have been remorse, an emotion he had never felt before. _Strange_, he thought, _I am… different. She is gone._ The last realisation came with what would have been joy, if it were not tainted by the sorrow he felt at what he had done, what he had been made to do. It had not all been Her doing though, She had simply broken him, shattered his mind, drained his humanity, then told him what to do. _I may be…repaired,_ he hated the word, but it felt so fitting, considering what he had been, _but somewhere within me…_ even in his thoughts, he could not finish the sentence.

Coming out of his thoughts, he realised something was… different, he felt… unbalanced, weighted on the right. Looking over his shoulder revived yet another memory. The forms he had taken in the final battles he had fought against Cloud and the others, further proof that a monster dwelled deep within him. A wing, black as his attire, yet feathered like an angel's, perhaps a cruel joke on the Planet's part, a reminder of what he had done. Which brought up an interesting question… why had he been given another chance? _To atone?_A glance at his wing confirmed his thoughts, he wrapped the new appendage around himself and walked on in search of life, unconsciously protecting himself from bitter, bitter memories, by veiling himself in deep thought.

**-End Chapter 2-**


	3. Time

**Author's Notes:**

** 1. ** This chapter goes to Noacat and Izpalluzado, for being the first two to review me. I'm glad you like my work, and I hope this next Chapter pleases.

**2. **I don't think this chapter will come out very well, I wanted to recap, and I really like the idea I had for how to do it, but it turned out to be much harder than I expected.

**3. ** Also, credit goes to Jim, for putting up with my incessant questioning of how he thought the characters should act, and for the excellent suggestions he gave.

**Chapter 3: Time.**

_Much had happened since the night Meteor struck. Strangely, though many had evacuated the city of __Midgar__ quickly enough to be spared, none had even considered rebuilding the dead city. Those who had lived in the so called technological Utopia had not known the joys that could be found outside, else they had led miserable, dreary lives. So the city was gone, and soon forgotten, what remained of its citizens living joyful live elsewhere. The rich had survived, and the only people who mourned the poor… well, they were poor themselves, and all perished. _

_Strange, yet a few short years after the terror of Meteor, the world was a happier place for all. Well, all save a select few, there had been a group of young warriors that had had to fight for the survival of the others, had been fighting before the masses even knew there was a threat. For these few, there could be no peace, the pain they had endured, the losses they had sustained, the blood they had spilled, none of this could be forgotten. Thus, mostly, the group had broken apart…_

Mere hours after the final battle, a young girl, only sixteen years of age, climbed her way down a length of rope, unseen, unheard. That was Yuffie's art was stealth, she would _never_ be seen or heard, unless she wanted to. Part of her felt guilty for betraying the people she had been travelling with for so long. She had made a promise, however, and a promise to her father held more weight than anything else, besides, she had only taken the expensive stuff, and the battle was over. So, a sack full of Materia slung over her shoulder, she fled the Highwind. They had made it so easy, too, stopping on the Wutai continent, of all places, to camp for the night – after all, not even Cid could pilot the thing while asleep.

Yuffie's feet touched soundlessly onto the grass below the airship and she immediately launched into a sprint, they wouldn't catch her this time. She _would_ take the Materia, thoughts of regret could come when she was safely with her father. Then Wutai could be returned to its former glory.

The city gates approached, the ground a green blur beneath her feet – then abruptly the green ended, replaced by the grey of stone, strangely warm and welcoming after so long away from home…

Days had passed, the companions had discovered Yuffie's disappearance, and didn't need to check to realise that they had lost a great deal of their Materia. Yet no one complained, they had all been together too long, and the Materia was no longer needed. They had briefly mourned the loss of her company, then continued on their way.

Now, the Highwind was landed a short distance from Rocket Town, and Cid Highwind stood out on deck, facing his companions, about to return to his home. His journey had started with a love of travel, and a pioneering ambition – in a few short months, he had achieved his dream of travelling into outer space, and had visited every settlement on the Planet, had seen every inch of the Planet's surface. It had been a long, tiring, journey, leading to a taxing battle, that had taught him a lot about himself. Now was the time for that journey to end. He had seen all that there was to see, gathered a sizeable fortune of Gil and still had debts to settle; Shera was waiting for him.

"So… ah… bye…"

"Leaving after so long, and that's all you can say?" The comment was accompanied by a small giggle, and a sad smile.

"Damnit, Tifa! You know I'm no good with speeches…" he'd definitely miss them all, but he wasn't gonna fall apart like a little girl in front of them. He sighed softly, before trying to appease them. "You all take care of yerselves, and the Highwind too, y'hear? And visit lots, I gotta make sure you're lookin' after my baby."

Another giggle answered his words, trust Cid to cover up his emotions with talk of his precious airship, as Tifa stepped forward, giving Cid a quick peck on the cheek. "Don't worry, Cid, we will, you just make sure you look after Shera… and thanks for letting us have your ship, it was really sweet."

A blushing Cid answered, chuckling lightly "I will, Tifa, don't you worry 'bout that. And don't worry 'bout the Highwind either, as long as you keep her safe, I don't think I'll be needing her anytime soon…"

With that, Tifa went back to the other companions, but only after giving Cid a warm, slightly crushing, hug, and giving the group of nervously silent companions a demanding look, prompting them to open up. _Men…_, she thought.

"Farewell, Cid," Nanaki stepped forward, raising a paw, "May your days be filled with joy…" Even on the lion-esque face of the creature once called Red XIII, the hint of a sorrowful smile could be seen. Barret was next, the large hulk of a man gripping Cid's hand with his own "Take care, Cid." Nothing more. Cid shook his hand lightly, shaking his own afterwards, with a slight grin; Barret's grip wasn't exactly weak. Barret was followed by Cloud, his expression sombre, yet almost unreadable, not masking his sorrow behind a smile, as did the others. "Bye, Cid, and thanks, we couldn't have made it so far without you… be happy, you deserve it."

Vincent simply nodded solemnly, not saying a word, but then, no one had expected him to, and somehow, everything that the others had said was communicated in that simple gesture.

Cid smiled sadly, "Thanks guys, it's been… interesting," a self-amused chuckle ensued before he continued, "come see me whenever you all can, see ya." With that, the one-time space-pilot left the ship, and an era had ended…

A week had passed, and now it was time for Barret Wallace to leave, after all, he had a little girl to take care of. His goodbyes had been said as heart-warmingly as had Cid's but a couple of days before, and now he was in Kalm, a bouquet of flowers in hand, making his way to the home Elmyra Gainsborough had taken Marlene to, during the destruction of Midgar that seemed so long ago.

Much had happened since he last saw the two, and it felt wrong entering so quietly, but what could he say that would express what he felt after so long. So he simply knocked lightly, then walked in.

"Who's there… oh, my…"

"Daddy, you're home!" Marlene was suddenly clinging to Barret's legs, eliciting a grin.

"So… where are the others… w-where is Aerith?" The terror could be seen in her eyes.

"Elmyra…ah… you better sit down…," Barret replied, but he could tell she already knew what he would say…

Cait Sith had stopped operating shortly after the final battle, as Reeve had been occupied in the evacuation of Midgar. A month after the battle, and Cait had yet to resume operation, while the worst had passed through their minds, the companions had made a silent agreement not to believe the worst until they had proof. After all, Reeve had worked for ShinRa, he more than any of them, should be adept at surviving the stickiest of situations.

Cloud Strife sat in the pilot's seat of the Highwind, no one had commented on the unnatural speed with which he had learned from Cid how to pilot the ship, they had all grown used to the effects Jenova had had on his physical and mental abilities. At this time, however, he wasn't flying the airship, but reading a letter…

_Dear Everyone,_

_ I guess I've been gone a long time now, and I'm sorry I couldn't get in contact sooner. As you all know, when Meteor struck, I went about the task of trying to evacuate Midgar. Getting the Upper Plate citizens to leave was no problem, but… well, it was a lot harder trying to get the people in the slums to leave. I mean… where were they supposed to go. I think I managed to get most of the people out in time, though, but what'd the point be in saving them from Meteor if they had nothing to live for afterwards? So now I'm trying my best to get them all some work and a place to live; it shouldn't be impossible, what with my old job, and all the money I have… it's just gonna take a while to build a whole town, seeing as we've only just found a place to build it. Anyway, I've attached a map of where the town will be, please visit whenever you can, you'll be more than welcome, and I promise I'll try and find you all when my work is done._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Reeve.___

Six months had passed since the battle and Vincent Valentine sat on his bed in the Highwind, cloaked, as ever, in blood red, thinking. Their group had fallen apart since the journey, and that was natural. Only four of them remained, adrift with nowhere to go, while the others had all gone off to live with their loved ones. Vincent had always been meant for battle, his years out of battle spent in slumber, and now there was nothing to fight, Jenova and Sephiroth were both gone, the world was too weary for another war, and ShinRa in tatters from Weapon's attack, so they wouldn't instigate one. When it came down to it, Vincent was now… unnecessary. _Then why am I still here?_ _Because I have nowhere to go?__ No… that is untrue, there is still Lucrecia's cave…_ And then it dawned on him why he was still here. Lucrecia was like him, twisted by Jenova, had reacted as he had, by hiding, and he still loved her… yet when he had found her, she had been unable to bear his gaze. He feared seeing her again, but he knew he had to; his place was with her now. He didn't want a fuss, though, so he simply picked up a pen and some paper and wrote:

_I am sorry, but I must leave. I have things to attend to, and I have been delaying for far too long. If you need me, I shall be in Lucrecia's cave._

_Vincent._

And with that written, and left where the others would find it, Vincent left, fading into the night…

Two years later, thirty months after the final battle, Cloud and Tifa finally settled in Mideel, to pick out a quiet life for themselves, and help in the rebuilding of the ruined town. Nanaki had long since left, having heard tales of a powerful medicine which could cure beings that had been turned to stone, and was now travelling on a new journey, in search of a cure for his lost father.

The couple walked quietly into Mideel, holding hands, while elsewhere, two pairs of emerald green eyes opened slowly…

**-End Chapter 3-**

**Author's Other Notes: **

**1.** Okay, the basic objective there was to show how long it had been since the end of the game without actually letting the characters learn anything new, and also give you an idea of where all the other characters are.

**2. **Contemplating bringing Lucrecia and Seto (was that his name… Red's father?) into the story, but not sure, ideas?

**3.** What did you all think of how the characters made their respective farewells?

**4. **Thanks for reading, Chapter 4 will take a while, I think, as I start school tomorrow.


	4. Decisions

**Chapter 4: Decisions.**

In the Ancient Forest, Aerith sat quietly, thinking. Why was she here? What could the Planet possibly want with her? She had already devoted one life to its service, cut it short in sacrifice to the Planet, and now, now that she had reached her reward, peace and happiness in the Promised Land, she had been torn from her fate, to serve the Planet once more. Why must life be so cruel? No matter, she would not be allowed to rest until she had served her purpose.

Rising quietly from the fallen tree she used as a chair, Aerith looked around her. Trees older than man towered into the skies above, cultivated long ago by her own kind. All about her was brown and green, the quiet, hushed chirping of distant birds were the only sounds to be heard. In a word, this place was… peaceful. Which, in itself, was why Aerith could not bring herself to leave. Peaceful as this place was, it was a cold, harsh wasteland compared to the Promised Land, and she knew the world outside was harsher still.

Still, if the Planet needed her again, she had to find out why, and she had an inkling that the answer lay in finding her former companions. Besides, she was curious as to how they were all doing, now that everything had passed, and, if she was honest, she wanted, needed their help in coping with her new life.

A quick, final glance at her surroundings, and Aerith steeled herself for the journey ahead. Closing her eyes, she listened for the voice of the Planet; there would be no chance of succeeding in her search if she sought her companions at random. That was one thing to be grateful for, she could still hear the whispers of the Planet, still had some form of guidance.

Aerith quickly found, however, that the voices had hushed, they were still there, but harder to understand. It seemed everything was harder now. Was she really strong enough to manage?

Elsewhere, someone who had once been considered much stronger, was faring far worse. Still in the ruins of Midgar, a tall, pale man crouched, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. His right hand was clutched firmly about a bloodstained shard of broken glass. Emerald orbs were wide open, staring directly into the point of the shard, as blood flowed freely down his left arm; both arms were littered with scars. To any passer by who saw him, the word "broken" would immediately come to mind. To anyone who had known him, however, the word would be "regression."

_Get up, son, find them again. Snap their necks, rip their throats, crush their limbs, watch them bleed. Bleed them all, draw the blood, watch it flow. Make them scream, sing the screams, hear them die. Walk in their blood, make the roads into rivers, rivers of blood in which to wade, revel in the death, destroy, destroy, destroy!_

The voice went on and on, demanding blood, and much as he fought, each time, he gave in, drew his own blood. Hurt himself, so that others needn't suffer, for he could never go down that route again. Never.

Shaking, he moved his gaze to the crimson flow from his left arm, and he was disgusted. He had become so weak, allowed one being to reduce him so far. If he stayed here, he would be fighting a losing battle, Jenova would eventually win, and he would end up either killing himself, or repeating his past life. But hadn't she already won, what were the scars and open wounds on his arms, if not trophies declaring Jenova's victory? That was not a question he would answer now.

Blood dripping from his fingers, Sephiroth rose to his feet, coldly examining the glass shard in his hand, stained with blotches of red and brown, the tool with which he had maintained what sanity he had for this long. A sign of his weakness. He let it drop to the floor with a muted chime as it fell into a small puddle of his blood, then calmly placed his right foot on it, crushing it under the weight of his boot.

The question remained, however, why had he remained here so long, and what would he do, now that he was to leave? Well, the first was easily answered. His time had passed, and even during his time, the world had had no need of him – he had brought only death and destruction, he had no purpose, nowhere to go. What could he do now, when he had ruined so many lives in the past?

Sephiroth blinked. Worded like that, it was perfectly clear how the situation could be solved. In his past life, he had worked up a huge debt – it was time the debt was repaid, and he knew where to start.

Thusly, two lost souls, different and yet alike, began two separate journeys which must, eventually conclude in the same result – a reunion with the group of warriors with whom their fates had been intertwined long ago. Neither soul knew what they were searching for, yet they knew that their lives would serve no purpose without it, so they searched and, deep down, prayed for salvation.

**-End Chapter 4-**

**Author's Notes:**

** 1. **Sorry for the delay, I've had a busy week, with several annoyances on the side for good measure.

**2. **I know the Chapter's too short; I was gonna make it longer, but the last paragraph seemed to make a good end, so I decided the stuff that would have come after will either make a new chapter, or the beginning of a later one.

**3. **Read and review… or _die_! (Insert manic laugh here.)


	5. Distance

**Author's Notes:**

**                1. **If you're reading this, you're a Final Fantasy fan, so if you don't already know about The Black Mages – go to be amazed. Nobuo Uematsu is a god.

**Chapter 5: Distance.**

Shortly after his decision to find those who had slain him, Sephiroth finally took a moment to analyze his situation in further detail. First he looked at himself, in some ways, he was much as he had been, in others he was vastly different. On the surface, he was the same, he stood at exactly six feet in height, his complexion pale, to match his hair, which flowed straight down his back, with the exception of bangs, framing his face at the front. His eyes till glowed an emerald green, a sign of what he was, a reminder of what he had been. He was clad in his usual black trousers and boots, though he no longer had his coat or armour – and he had a wing.

Taking a closer look, however, anyone could tell he had changed. His eyes were… haunted. One arm was covered in cuts and scars of various gravity. His hair was a mess. In short, he looked ragged, weary, and it occurred to him, humble as he was, he would not, confront those he had harmed in his current state, could not show them his weakness. He still had his pride.

Looking around himself, he inspected his surroundings. Vines and creepers as thick as his arms had claimed this land from what had ruled before, shattering glass, snapping metal. Yet, much as this land now had a disturbing amount of life within it, Sephiroth could tell that it had been utterly lifeless before, constructed completely of metal, stone and glass, and there was only one place that had ever been like that. Midgar.

Well, at least he knew where he was. Unless the world had changed drastically since he had died, the nearest town was Kalm, so that would be the first destination in his search. However, there were things that must be attended to first. For one, he was in no state to be seen by anyone who knew him, for another, there was still the matter of his wing, being a warrior, he tried to know all his strengths and weaknesses, and having a new limb, even if he couldn't use it, would have changed them.

So Sephiroth set about learning how useful this new addition to his body was. First, he simply flexed all the muscles in his torso, to see if the wing would move, managing nothing more or less than a simple twitch. Then, he continued to use different sets of muscles, trying to locate the muscles that controlled the wing, and learn how to use them.

This was going to take a while.

Meanwhile, Aerith had arrived in Costa Del Sol, with a smile on her face. People were nicer than she had remembered, and with the aid of people heading in the same direction as she, she had arrived at her first destination surprisingly quickly. Strange, how such a crisis had brought the Planet's people together. Luckily, Costa Del Sol was a very popular place to be – it hadn't been difficult at all to find people heading there. And now that she was here, life seemed almost perfect. Everyone was smiling, the sun shining, the air filled with the sounds of people laughing, birds singing, waves gently breaking against the nearby beach.

It was a shame she couldn't stay long. The voice of the planet was now guiding her towards the sea, and as there was only one other port town on the Planet, it was clear where her next destination was. Junon Harbour. Now there was only the question of how to get there, she somehow doubted the newfound hospitality of the Planet's people would extend to free passage to the East Continent. Well, she had no choice but to try, anyway.

Aerith made her way down to the port, and began asking around, to see if anyone knew to whom she had to talk to see about getting across to the East Continent. It wasn't long before she had been pointed in the direction of a man named Al, and had rapidly made her way over to his vessel.

As she approached the ship, Aerith could tell it wasn't going to be cheap. The vessel would best be described as a pleasure cruiser, it was gigantic, bright white, as if it had been newly painted, and the deck was home to a large swimming pool, lined with deck chairs. Slightly disheartened by the sight of the vessel, it took her a moment to avert her attention to the captain, only succeeding in doing so when she heard a polite cough.

"Heya, there, the name's Al. How can I help ye, ma'am?" The voice came from a rugged, kind looking, older man, probably in his mid thirties by Aerith's judgement. He reminded her slightly of Cid.

"Umm… if you don't mind. How much would it cost me to ride your ship to Junon Harbour?"

"That'd cost ye 6'000 Gil, ma'am."

"Ah… I don't suppose you know of a way I could earn 6'000 Gil before your ship leaves, do you?" she asked, sighing quietly, unless things went well, it could be months before she found the others.

"Nope, can't say that I do. But there's plenty of work around here, and the next ship over to Junon should be round in a few weeks, I reckon ye could have the money by then…," he was finished talking, until he noticed Aerith sigh, dejectedly, "But I reckon ye can't wait till then, eh? Hmm, well this _is_ a fix. Ye seem like an honest gal, howabout ye earn yer fare on the journey over? Ye'd have to work all day, eat the crew's food, and share one of the hostess' rooms, mind. Nothing so fancy as the customers get, but I reckon ye'd manage… What dye think?"

"Oh, thank you! That would be lovely, thank you so much!" She jumped, just a little bit, for joy, before asking, "So when are we casting off?"

"We leave in two hours, ye'd best get on board now and get to know the crew. Tell 'em I sent ye, and they'll show you around."

"Okay, again, thanks so much, you're too kind," she was calming down a little, now.

"Don't mention it. I'll see ye in an hour or so, once I've got everyone on board. Before ye go… I didn't catch yer name."

"Aerith, Aerith Gainsborough, nice to meet you." She offered her hand, and he shook it lightly.

"Pleasure's all mine. Now, ye'd best be going, Aerith, I'll see ye soon."

"Yes, sir. Thanks again, bye!"

With that, Aerith set off onto the boat, glad again for the generosity the human race seemed to have developed while she had been gone.

And so two people, both considered lost to the Planet, though one was hardly noticed, and the other was not mourned, had found their way, at least for now, and, in their own ways, were working their way closer to their destination, slowly overcoming their fears of what they would find at their journey's end.

**-End Chapter 5-**


	6. Elsewhere

**Author's Notes: **

**                1.** Here's Chapter 6. Finally, we're getting into some actual plot development… or at least a little teaser as to what the plot will be.

                **2.** Consider me posting 3 Chapters in 24 hours an apology for how short chapters 4 and 6, especially 6, are.

                **3. **The weird name for the Chapter is to highlight that it's a short interlude from the events I've been covering so far. That said… on with the show.

**Chapter 6: Elsewhere…**

It's amazing the things that the human race can fail to notice. Especially in the face of such an amazing victory as they thought they had made over Sephiroth, Meteor and the Weapons. Especially when only a select few had been aware of the real enemy.

No one had noticed before when a hoard of black-caped men, spread thinly throughout the Planet's populace, had begun to make their way to the North Crater, muttering about a Reunion, besides, the majority had died on their way to the Crater, too weak to go on. It was easy to overlook that it was only majority that had not fallen, that those that had fallen might not have died, weak as they were, Jenova did not let her pawns die so easily. Thus, no one noticed, again, when the remnants of ShinRa's experiments began to make their way to the North Crater. Even if they had, they most likely would not have cared, they had failed once, they would fail again.

Things were different now, however. Ever since the battle in the North Crater, the place seemed dead,  the Whirlwind Maze had quieted, jagged, harsh cliffs had collapsed into gentle slopes. Thus, the clones gravitated to a place deep within the Earth, a corner of the Planet that the people had turned their gaze from. After all, it was far easier to make their new lives for themselves if they looked away from the source of their former troubles; the North Crater was the Past, and the people wanted to look firmly into the Future.

Deep within the North Crater, if anyone dared venture there, one would find what looked like a mass grave. Hundreds of bodies, piled on top of each other, all white-haired, green-eyed, cloaked in black, a worrying variety of numbers tattooed on their hands, formed a large circle. Dozens more of the black caped men climbed their way over the bodies, too mindless to be worried by the sight they say, whispering softly, their voices hopeless, "Mother…"

As the clones climbed their way over the bodies, they would have noticed, had they not been living a mere parody of life, that the circle was hollow, and within it, there was another figure. The figure in the centre bore a startling resemblance to those around it, and was clad in what was most likely the cape that had belonged to one of the hundreds of bodies surrounding her. Except that it was a woman.

The woman sat there, in the centre, cross-legged, her hands seated calmly in her lap, a smile on her face, a smile that been seen more than two and a half years ago, on the face of a man who looked just like her, as he committed his greatest sin, the one deed that would forever haunt him, standing out above all the rest as the reason he must continue to suffer.

The woman smiled, and as one of her drones approached her, a wispy line of bright green light would connect them, the drone's eyes would widen, and, as the drone died, She would grow stronger, Her smile never wavering. Once again, Jenova had survived the Planet's attempts to destroy her. This time, however, She would not fail in her attempts to destroy the Planet.

Jenova sat, regaining her strength, planning. Her mistakes before had been many, she had placed all her strength in only one of her puppets, she had been hasty, not taking the time to gather all of her pieces before attacking, not bothering to discover if the Planet could pose her a threat to her plans before putting them under way. She would not make these mistakes again. She would wait until She was as strong as She could be, then She would hunt down the rest of Her Children, and kill them along with those who had helped them before, claiming what of Her strength they had within them. Then, and only then, would she proceed to rob this Planet of life.

Thus, Jenova waited, stronger than she was before, waiting for the moment when she could finally destroy the Planet.

**-End Chapter 6-**


	7. Revelations

**Author's Note:**

** 1.** As always, flashback's refer to Noacat's Tranquillity. (READ IT!) in this case, however, the short flashback of Aerith and Sephiroth is quoted from it. What can I say? She wrote it better than I could.

**Chapter 7: Revelations.**

Aerith sat on her bed. Her room on this ship was by no means large, and her day had not, by any means, been easy. Being raised in the slums, however, Aerith knew that her circumstances were not bad at all, not opulent, of course, but comfortable. So she sat on her bed and recounted the day's events…

She had arrived on the ship three days ago, and was already well acquainted with how everything ran. Captain Al hadn't asked much of her, but she was determined to do her part, she was up promptly at sunrise, and helping the kitchen crew cook breakfast, followed, of course, by helping them clean up. After that was done, she took a moment to eat her own breakfast, washing up after herself, of course.

Generally, at this point in the day, she would help with general maintenance, keeping the rooms clean, washing sheets and such. Today had been different though; some poor fool had cracked his head open diving in the on board pool, and had been sent to the infirmary. So Aerith had gone to the infirmary, using her less ordinary talents to heal the boy, before going about her day's business. The rest of the day was more of the same, culminating in helping to prepare and serve dinner, then eating her own.

All in all, she could say she had done a good day's work, even if it hadn't been particularly exciting, and she was more than ready for a good night's sleep. As always, her thoughts turned to her new life, and she pondered why she was here. This time, however, a voice answered, a familiar, comforting humming, giving only the suggestions of concepts, rather than concrete answers. The Planet's voice.

_A second chance, child…_

_A chance for what?___

_Success.___

_In what?!_

_Jenova.__ Sephiroth._

As always, she felt herself growing frustrated at her inability to fully comprehend what was being said. It had been so much easier before, when she knew she would be rewarded with the Promised Land, knew the Planet would take care of her. And, of course, with her frustration, it was even harder to comprehend the thoughts. Yet one memory slid through her, like cold, hard steel through warm, soft flesh.

_Sephiroth…No! Not again!_

She was so afraid, it had hurt, so much, to die before, why would she be brought back, just to die again?

_Not again. Never._

_Then what?_

_You will see. You will be protected. Fear not._

And then silence… those last thoughts had been so comforting before – it was so hard to find comfort in them now. She lay back in her bed, drawing the covers over her, and let herself drift away into slumber. She slept, and her dreams were interspersed with unnaturally lucid thoughts, both thoughts and dreams of one person.

Sephiroth…

Both memories and speculation flowed through her mind. She remembered, before she had met Cloud and the others, that she had tried to save him from Jenova. Remembered that she had failed, the look he had given her, his need for her help outweighing his famous pride. And she remembered exactly how he had looked before Jenova had made her final victory. She blushed at the admission that, before the malice Jenova had brought to his eyes, Sephiroth had been quite beautiful.

Aerith realised that in the short time she had known Sephiroth, she had known him better than anyone else. She was the only one that had viewed him as anything than an extension of his titles and his fame. On the surface, he had been broken, yet a little underneath the surface, it was easy to see his beauty. Of course, there was far more to him than that. Dig a little deeper, and one could see the malice that had been festering, waiting to be set free, even the humans had seen that… a little deeper though, and there was a strong, pure soul, struggling to maintain it's humanity. Very few had seen that, and Jenova had dealt with it as quickly as She could.

She realised, that if Sephiroth had been stronger, able to maintain his humanity, had she seen him as more than just a patient, she would have been attracted to him. No, that was a lie, told to protect herself from dozens of painful memories. She _had_ been attracted to him, every girl in Midgar had been. If things had been different, maybe that could have meant something. She had one memory, among all the others, to attest to that…

_Aerith bit her lip, looking up at Sephiroth uncertainly. He smiled boyishly, stroking her hair, wordlessly telling her it was alright to give into the moment. Their eyes meet, and they both moved in closer. His lips gently touching hers in a soft farewell kiss. _

_Pulling away, he whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry."_

_A simple apology for the terrible choice she had to make and what hell he'd put her through to get there. Aerith stared at him in astonishment and was unable to move from sheer shock. It was her first kiss. He smiled and stood up, exiting the church without so much as a look back. His darkened form fading into shattered moonlight._

Oh yes, before he had lost himself to Jenova, he had been quite caring, though in what time she had known him, he had been preoccupied fighting the losing battle with Jenova, and when it mattered most, she had feared him.

Then it dawned on her. A second chance. Sephiroth. A second chance to save him, though that would mean he must be alive again, she was hardly the person to call that far-fetched, all facts considered. Yet in that case… Jenova must have survived. Well, it only made sense – all her people combined had only managed to bury her in the Planet, never destroy her. And that was the problem… she could, would, save Sephiroth from falling again – he would be stronger now, and she, herself was wiser, but how could they be rid of Jenova, the curse that had plagued this Planet for two entire millennia?

One thing at a time, she thought, the planet will guide me, and I will not fail.

In Midgar, a flash of black and white sped between two roofs, trailing white hair and black feathers. As it came to a halt it could be seen to be Sephiroth, already unsheathing Masamune, slashing fiercely at the space in front of him, glowing green eyes filled with focus. Onlookers experienced in the martial arts would assume, correctly, that he was performing a kata – a form of training that essentially involved battling imaginary opponents in order to ingrain certain manoeuvres into the warrior's mindset, developing them as instinct.

Two quick, short parries, followed by a feinted slash, and suddenly he was gone, appearing two yards in front of where he had been, facing his former location, leaving nothing where he had been before, save for three black feathers, floating to the ground. His blade shot forward, and then he was motionless, his kata over.

Covered in a light sheen of sweat, shoulders and chest heaving lightly from his earlier exertion, Sephiroth sheathed his sword, wrapped his wing around his torso. Taking a moment to regain his breath, Sephiroth sat down and let himself sink into his thoughts…

It had turned out that his wing was more useful than he had expected; there was definitely a magical aspect to it, in that, while he couldn't fly, he could glide, and not do so in circles. That wasn't all though, he had changed a lot since his resurrection. At first he had been worried, after all, who was he, if not himself? But he had quickly come to realise that he was, indeed, still himself, the differences in him all superficial, not affecting who he was…

Jenova's voice was weakening, often replaced with a gentle humming that never brought words, rather than the suggestions of ideas and concepts spoken into his mind. He had a wing, and he could glide, as well as, strangely, translocate himself at will. Though he had learned with the latter that he could only do so to places he knew or were within view, or to objects he was acquainted with. He was stronger than he had been, and with this came the logical conclusion that he had not been brought back here as punishment.

The last kata had been executed perfectly, as had the four or five before that, he thought to himself, without pride or ego, a simple statement. He had stayed here because he needed to know what he was capable of before he set out, and now he knew, so it was time to leave. It was never a good idea to set out on a journey unrested, though, so he would leave in the morning.

Sephiroth lay down, there on the stone roof of one of hundreds of ruined buildings, and thought, letting his inner thoughts develop into a dialogue with this new 'voice' that had intruded on his mind.

_I wonder why I'm here?_

_A second chance.___

_For what?___

_Aerith.__ Jenova._

_Ah… Why?_

_Necessary.___

_Yes, but **why?**_

The reply was a mixture of ideas and feelings he couldn't quite interpret, and yet he didn't mind, for he was making progress. He was stronger, in charge of himself, he had a purpose. He was tired though, and within moments, he was sleeping.

It didn't occur to him, until he awoke the next day, that, from what the voice had said, Aerith must be alive.

The next morning, a ship had arrived in Junon Harbour. Aerith stood at the dock, conversing with the captain.

"Thank you so much, Al, I hope I wasn't too much trouble. I guess I'll be going now… I hope I'll see you again, soon… goodbye."

"Yer more'n welcome, Aerith, ye weren't any trouble at all, in fact, ye were so much help, I'd be robbing ye not to give ye the same pay the rest of the crew got," he fished out a small purse from a pocket and pressed it into Aerith's hands, "Here ye are, 1'200 Gil, take it, ye earned it. Now, yer probably in a hurry to be wherever yer going, so get on yer way, and take care, see ya around."

"Oh, my… thank you, Al, for everything, bye bye."

Aerith sighed as she left the dock for the elevator down to town's ground level, Al had been such a nice man, and she didn't much like goodbyes, but she had to be going. Shifting her thoughts to the matters at hand, Aerith turned her attention to the Planet's voice. It was guiding her toward the East, still, so she followed it, toward the Chocobo Ranch.

**-End Chapter 7-**

**1.** You may have noticed Sephy's picked up some extra little abilities, they're taken from Kingdom Hearts, which you should play, if you haven't, simply because Sephiroth is in it, briefly =D. (But don't go near him, unless you're at level 100. If you're at level 50, he can pretty much KO you in two blows o.O)


	8. Reunion

**Author's Notes:**

**                1.** Later on, I'm briefly gonna describe a coat. You know the one I'm talking about, and if you don't, you _really_ need to play Kingdom Hearts. Or see it here: http:bonusweb.idnes.cz/obrazek/sephiroth1.jpg

**Chapter 8: ****Reunion****.**

Sephiroth stood his ground, heart pounding, eyes glowing, both hands holding the hilt of Masamune close to his cheek. His eyes drift shut, vision unnecessary. He was distinctly aware from the sounds heavy, animalistic breathing, that he was surrounded by a broad circle of monsters, and that was as it should be. After all, he needed the Gil.

He waited calmly, as they watched him, wary. Then one of them lunged at him, teeth hunting his jugular, but in a burst of feathers, he was gone. He appeared again, outside the circle, lunging amateurishly with his blade – after all, they were only monsters, they wouldn't know he was baiting them. Another flash, three more feathers in the air, and he was elsewhere on the perimeter, teasing with his blade, causing them to back away from him, close the circle, yet still underestimate him, as he never once hit them.

In another burst of feathers, he was suddenly within the circle, without so much a smile, he raised one arm, and pillars of flame shot from the ground. The monsters were gone without so much as a dying scream. He sheathed his sword, and smiled, revelling in the thrill of a battle one, and the knowledge that he, albeit only slightly, had cleaned up the world of Jenova's filth.

After picking up all the Gil the monsters had left behind, Sephiroth looked up to see that Kalm was within sight and, as he walked the last few yards to his destination, he thought on what the day had brought.

_He had woken up at daybreak and, as he recollected the 'conversation' he had the night before, he searched around the streets of what had been Midgar for anything that might be of use. As he had suspected, there was a large amount of low level Materia lying around, from what have must have been a huge gathering of the Lifestream, considering what had been done to this place; he suspected all the powerful stuff had been taken by merchants and the like. Nevertheless, he had some useful Materia; Enemy Lure, Enemy Away, Enemy Skill, Barrier, all low level, but useful in a bind. Besides, no use letting it go to waste._

_As he left Midgar, he equipped Enemy Lure and Barrier to his Masamune, and it dawned on him. A second chance with Aerith… so she was alive. Though a second chance for what, he wasn't sure. Oh well, he would find out soon enough._

_So the journey passed quickly, most of the time, disposing of monsters, taking the money that came with that, and while he wasn't fighting, he sifted through his memories of his past life. Then something strange occurred to him. He remembered things he shouldn't, oh, all the memories were about him, it was just that he couldn't possibly have remembered them. For example, no one could say, from memory alone, who their parents were._

Sephiroth walked into Kalm, and promptly ignored all the gazes fixed upon him. It wasn't often one saw a pale, white haired man, walk topless into town, arms scarred, carrying a ridiculously long sword. Looking quickly around, operating mostly from memory, it didn't take him long to find an armoury, and a shop selling clothes. He went to the former first, and on entering, was met with a stunned, brown eyed gaze, on a man that could be described simply as 'burly.'

"Ah… hello there, s-sir, how may I help you?"

"I want mail, mythril. Do you have any?" Sephiroth was never the type to mince words, he knew what he wanted, and he had places to be.

"Ehh… of course, sir!" The smith had quite clearly forgotten himself for a moment, but he regained his senses, and went about making his sale… money was money, after all, "We've got mythril, and in any colour, you want it in, at that, what –"

"Black. Show me." His voice wasn't exactly threatening, it was simply… impatient. The sword, however, was threatening.

"Heheh… as you wish, sir." He was gone and back in a moment with a blackened mythril mail vest, that he thought should fit the white-haired man. He handed it to the customer, and watched nervously as it was weighed by strangely slender fingers for a swordsman, examined, then accepted.

"How much?"

"One hundred Gil."

"Done," it was an effort for Sephiroth to retain his surprise as he handed over the money, assuming to himself that the Planet must be much more peaceful now, for armour to come so cheap, "Nice doing business with you. Farwell." Sephiroth slipped on the vest as he left. Things were going well.

His next stop was the clothes store, into which he walked with his usual confident stride, and stopped as he noticed a young woman, not much older than himself, that must have been the owner. Strangely, unlike the man before, this woman took his appearance in stride perfectly.

"Hello there, how may I help you?"

"I need a coat. Black. Full length," and then, as an afterthought, his eyes drifting momentarily to his arms and hands, "and some black gloves. Leather."

"Very well, we've got quite a selection, I'm sure we can find something that'll suit you, if you just follow me."

Something about the ease with which she accepted him seemed to keep Sephiroth in a relatively amiable mood, and he followed wordlessly, eyes catching sight of a long black coat, trimmed in crimson, that seemed to flare and fork out at the bottom, as if tattered.

"That one," he said, and made his way over to it, searching through the coat's of similar ilk behind it, for one that would fit him, then slipping it on wordlessly, "How much is it?"

"Three hundred and fifty Gil."

"Very well, and gloves?" The price was nearer to what Sephiroth had expected, after all, in peace or war, people still needed clothes.

"Over here by the counter, sir," She walked to the counter, and Sephiroth followed, eyeing the various pairs, settling a pair of plain black leather gloves that fit his hands.

"How much are these?"

"Thirty five Gil."

"Here you are, and thank you."

"Thank you sir, have a good day."

"You too." Sephiroth walked out, dressed, wondering where he would go next. The answer came in the form of gossip heard in passing…

"Would you believe the nerve of that guy, prancing around like he owns the town, someone oughtta show him who's boss!"

"Hah! But who would? Would – _you_ – mess with someone like him – he's got a _gun_ where his right hand should be, I me-"

Sephiroth promptly looked over in the direction of the conversation, and saw what looked to him like a couple of punks who could use some respect. No matter, they might be able to lead him to where he needed to go, so he interrupted.

"The man with the gun-arm, where does he live?" His voice calm, level.

"Uhh," that voice was cold, and not the kind the kid figured he should answer to, but then again, someone like _that_ was probably the kind that could mess with Barret Wallace. So he gave the white-haired stranger directions.

And that was how Sephiroth came to be at the door to the home where Barret, Elmyra and Marlene were staying. He knocked lightly at the door, and waited calmly for the door, until the door was opened, left handed, by a familiar man.

"What the….?"

Meanwhile, Aerith trudged her way eastwards across the East Continent, clutching her staff tightly against her, glad for her Materia, as she had already had to fight her way through five monsters. It occurred to her that this journey would be much easier if she had caught a ride at least part of the way, but the Planet had hinted in its usual, vague manner, that it was vitally important she make the journey on foot. She wondered why, as she trudged on, and on…

Elmyra Gainsborough had learned a lot about people in the years she had raised her adopted daughter, Aerith, and later, been looked after by her and it occurred to her that Sephiroth wanted to die. By watching what had transpired, she had learned that Sephiroth had been dead, killed by Barret, for killing her daughter, Aerith. Strangely, when the door opened, Barret had aimed his gun, and Sephiroth raised his hands, then handed over his sword.

She had been shocked, of course, at the news, but not enraged, everything had happened too fast for that, but living with a Cetra had developed her a resistance to shock at the unnatural, and that too faded after a while. She would hate him, except that what she saw now was a good… albeit very strange, man. She would be in tears, but she had had plenty of time to come to terms with the loss of her daughter. Still, she would not soon forget the conversation they had had on meeting.

_"Barret."___

_"Sephiroth!__ How?! We killed you!"_

_"I don't know, though I suspect that the Planet brought me back for one reason or another." His voice was so calm, as if he was never shocked, or this situation was normal._

_"The Planet?!__ Why, damnit?! You killed innocents, summoned Meteor… you killed Aerith!" Barret's arm was shaking with rage, eyes filled with hatred._

_"I know. I'm sorry. That's why I'm here." Sephiroth winced at the last accusation, his voice grim, serious, but controlled as ever._

_"…What?"_

_"I won't make any excuses… but I was not myself before, I hurt a lot of people, and I've come to make amends." That he saw no other reason for his new life was unspoken, and Elmyra doubted if Barret picked up on it._

_"You came to make amends? You kiddin'? You killed Tifa's pa, burned Nibelheim to the ground, killed Aerith, what could you possibly give any of us to make up for what you did?!"_

_The answer had been so simple, "My life. If you want to kill me, do it. Use my sword, if you like." There was hope in his eyes, and his lips curled into a tiny smile at the irony in his offer, to be killed with the very sword with which he had committed so many offences._

_The two stared at each other for nigh on five minutes, Barret's right arm shaking, the gun aimed directly between Sephiroth's eyes. Elmyra stood and walked calmly over to Barret._

_"No, Barret… you'd only become like he was. Don't do it," she turned to Sephiroth, "We can't give you what you want, but you may as well stay for some tea, you must have come a long way. Take a seat, I'll go put the kettle on." There was strain in her eyes, but she knew what was right, and she would stick to it. Understanding flickered between her gaze and Sephiroth's as they met._

_"Y-yes… thank you, Miss…?"_

_"Gainsborough."_

_Sephiroth's eyes widened, and so did Barret's – very few people ever got to see Sephiroth shocked._

Currently, Elmyra sat to one side as Barret and Sephiroth sat conversing, the three of them sipping occasionally at their mugs.

"I don't know what it is, but something is stirring in the Planet, there will be trouble ahead." Sephiroth said quietly.

"What kinda trouble?" Suspicion lingered in Barret's voice.

"I couldn't say, but I would think it wise if you gathered your old friends. I am not certain, but I think you will be needed."

"I can't just up an' leave, Sephiroth, I have a little girl to look after."

Sephiroth sighed, thinking for a moment, "Well… then I will attempt to tell Cloud. It seems fitting."

"Yeah, I guess that'd be best."

"You wouldn't, perhaps, know where he is?"

"…" Suspicion was clear in Barret's eyes.

"If I was going to hurt them I would beat the information out of you." He wasn't boasting, simply stating fact, and Barret knew it.

"Mideel."

"Thank you," Sephiroth hesitated for a moment, then, "also… I don't know if I should say this, but… I think Aerith may be alive, as well."

A faint click was heard and suddenly Barret's gun arm was aimed at Sephiroth's forehead, "That's too far, Sephiroth!"

"It's the truth."

Elmyra was now standing, one hand bringing Sephiroth's gaze to meet hers with a force that few people dared use around the man.

"I suggest, young man, that there are some things that one should never lie about. Do you honestly think my daughter is alive?" Her eyes filled with the suggestion of tears and a hopeful gaze.

"I cannot be certain, but I strongly suspect it is the case, yes." He tried, with relative success to conceal the hope in his own gaze.

"But you killed her! I saw you do it! How could you think that?!"

"Calm down, Barret, please…"

"I am not disputing that she was dead… I was dead too. And I'm alive now, if the Planet granted me a new life, it more than certainly should have granted her the same. There are… other reasons also, but now is not yet the time for me to explain. I don't doubt that Aerith will look for Cloud… and the Planet will guide her, so she will eventually end up in Mideel. If I am correct, you will be reunited with her soon, but we can only hope." The entire time he spoke, he met Elmyra's gaze.

"Thank you." Elmyra smiled, wiping a tear from her eyes with one hand.

"I should be going now. I… thank you, Miss Gainsborough, for your hospitality. And once again, I am…sorry… Farewell." He rose, turned, and left, eyes on the floor.

"It was… a pleasure, Sephiroth, goodbye."

And so time passed. Sephiroth made his way south from Kalm, towards Mideel. Aerith travelled East from Junon to the Chocobo Ranch. Both were long journeys that would not be completed in a single day and so day turned to night, and night to day, until, at length…

Aerith was worn, wary, and though she normally stronger than this, scared. She was about half way to the Ranch, and already she was almost out of supplies. More importantly, however, she was currently faced with a lupine-looking monster, and was far too tired to use her magic. She backed away slowly, gulping, and the monster lunged…

Sephiroth had set himself a tasking, yet manageable pace on his march to the southern coast of the continent, his journey already planned out perfectly in his head, he had been travelling two nights, and in two more, he should be at the coast. He heard a scream. Well, more a cry of pain, really, than a scream.

He set out into a run, to see what was happening, his right hand leaping to his sword's hilt, ready to draw. As he drew closer, recognition dawned in his eyes.

Aerith let out a cry as she failed to back away in time, one of the monster's claws catching her leg, tearing her dress, drawing blood. She fell onto her behind, and backed away, clutching her staff, a last defence, eyes wide as adrenaline flowed through her, aware that these may be her last moments. The monster reared onto its hind legs, ready to deliver the final blow…

And none came, instead, Aerith's eyes witnessed the eerie re-enactment of a memory in which she had played a very different role. Our of nowhere, a shadow appeared behind the monster, several feet of steel, curved, graceful, protruding through the monster's ribs. A moment of silence, then, with a cry, the monster disintegrated into a red haze, and Aerith saw what stood behind it.

"Sephiroth."

"Aerith." Sephiroth twirled his sword lightly, calm as ever, not about to let anyone know how glad he was that he hadn't been too late, he sheathed his sword, and offered a hand to Aerith.

"Thank you… oh, gods, thank you!" her voice was slightly hysterical from the fear and adrenaline that had recently rushed through her, as she took his hand and, with his help, pulled herself to her feet. She slumped forward against him lightly, gripping the hem of his coat softly.

"Thank you, Sephiroth…so much…" too glad to be alive to acknowledge how strange it was to be saying those words.

"It's… okay, Aerith. You're safe now." He had no idea what to say, feeling decidedly awkward, loosely draping his arms around her, hoping to calm her down.

"I-…"

"Hush, Aerith, just relax for now." They had a lot to talk about, and Sephiroth strongly suspected they would go through a lot of hardships, soon enough, but she deserved some rest, and he would make sure she got it…

**-End Chapter 8-**

**Author's Notes:**

**              1.** F-cking finally! Aside from the fact that they've finally crossed paths, you have no idea the crap I went through to write this! My comp randomly restarted itself at one point, then refused to connect, and kept crashing, making me restart, and constantly losing sections of various length here and there. I'll probably have been through more by the time this gets to fanfic.net . (I've just backed up all my important files – I'll probably have to format to get back online.) As such, you'd _better_ all read and review!


	9. Reoccurrence

Chapter 9: Reoccurrence 

There was an awkward silence. Aerith stepped away from Sephiroth, and met his shining gaze. It was strange, she had been determined not to let fear undermine her duties this time around, but there was a world of difference between deciding not to fear something, and actually being unafraid. Yet, here she was, faced with the person who had once been her greatest fear, and she was entirely unafraid. It occurred to her that this was because there was no sign of Jenova in him, and his first act in meeting her had been to save her life, but that was irrelevant, they were here now, and what would come, would come.

A lot passed, unsaid, between their gazes, in a manner that only two who had shared a profound experience could achieve, and so little time was wasted with such questions as the average person would ask. Instead, Aerith nodded and asked, simply "Where are you headed?"

"Mideel, you?"

Aerith closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the Planet, it was singing now, wordlessly, giving no indication of direction but, rather, a simple indication that all was well.

"I… think I'm going where you're going." Anyone else would have asked if that was okay, yet they both knew Sephiroth would agree.

"Ah." Sephiroth nodded quietly to himself, it made sense that the Planet would guide her to the others, though he wondered if she was ready to be reunited with them, after all that had happened – and wondered if they would be ready to see her again, as well. A short pause, and then he said simply, "You should know… I'm going to see Cloud, and Tifa too," the question clear in his glowing gaze.

"I thought so. I have to see them again eventually, anyway."

Another nod, "We should get moving, it's a long way to Mideel."

Aerith nodded silently and the two continued their journey, walking south, each in their own little world, thinking about everything that had happened recently. For a long time, the journey was in silence, Sephiroth setting a gentle pace, so as not to tire Aerith over the long journey, Aerith silently grateful for the gesture, knowing Sephiroth could cover the distance a lot faster on his own. The silence didn't last forever, however, and eventually…

"Aerith… how, no… why are we here?" his voice was calm, yet holding a hint of frustration at not knowing, Sephiroth had never been fond of ignorance, least of all in himself.

"I don't know… All I could say… is that the Planet brought us back, it must need us…"

"If it needs me… it must be something to do with… her…" He still didn't like saying Jenova's name.

"Is Jen-… she still inside you… I mean, do you still her voice?" Aerith noted the reluctance to say her name perhaps a moment too late, and refrained from using it herself.

There was a long silence, and for a while, Aerith thought perhaps she had overstepped a boundary, and then Sephiroth let out a deep sigh. "I think the Planet cleansed me in some way – her grip has… weakened, but she is still there…"

A deep sorrow settled into Aerith's eyes, both at the knowledge that she may once again lose Sephiroth to Jenova, and at what she was about to ask, yet she had to know.

"H-how long…? How long can you fight her?"

Another long silence, Sephiroth didn't know how to answer the question, after all, it was not a topic he was fond of contemplating, and he definitely didn't want to put a date on when he would lose himself to her clutches again. This time the silence was broken by Aerith's voice.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't ha-"

"It's okay, Aerith…," a brief pause, and then, "I don't know, though… I think with you around, I can hold her off indefinitely." It wasn't flattery, or an expression of affection, just a simple acknowledgement of the fact that Jenova seemed to quieten when Aerith was around.

Then, the two fell quiet again, each of them privately wondering what was to come.

Meanwhile, in Mideel, Cloud stood alone, reminiscing. The room he was in was a strange one, in that it was entirely bare, except for one wall, on which were mounted every sword Cloud had ever wielded. This was where the former warrior came to think.

He was growing restless. Although during the days, Cloud kept himself occupied in helping to rebuild the ruined town, at night he grew weary, some part of him, deep down, realising that he was meant for battle, and was unnecessary in these peaceful times. As his eyes roamed quietly over his extensive collection of swords, his mind wandered back over times past.

Tifa watched Cloud silently from the doorway, her large brown eyes filled with concern. Cloud had been coming here far too often, lately, and she could only wonder how long it would take him to adjust to a life without war, if he was to adjust at all. She took a few steps closer, her arms gently wrapping around one of his, "Dinner's ready, Cloud…"

Cloud smiled gratefully, Tifa had been trying so hard to look after him, ever since he had started letting his thoughts drift.

"Thanks, Tif." He let out a quiet sigh, and let Tifa lead him from the room.

Meanwhile, Aerith and Sephiroth had taken a break from their journey in Fort Condor, for shelter and to stock up on supplies. In their separate rooms, the two slept, or at least they tried. In her room, Aerith sat up in her bed, listening to the Planet. Something was wrong, but she couldn't discern what it was, no matter how hard she tried, she could gather no more than an ominous feeling – the knowledge that something would soon go horribly wrong.

In his room, Sephiroth lay still, fighting, part of him thinking back to when they had arrived…

_As the two of them passed __Fort__Condor__, Sephiroth came to a halt, one hand rising to gently grip Aerith's shoulder. "We should stop here. We don't have any supplies to set up camp, and we won't reach another settlement before Mideel, we should get some rest, and stock up on supplies." _

_And so the two had entered __Fort__Condor__.__ When they asked for somewhere to sleep, they had of course, opted for separate rooms – but part of Sephiroth had wanted to share a room, fearing what may happen if he left Aerith's presence. He had his pride, however, and didn't want to seem weak, that and he knew it wouldn't be proper for them to share. Besides, he had been fighting Her off fairly well before he had run into Aerith, hadn't he…?_

Jenova, however, seemed stronger now, as if all the respite from her corruption brought by Aerith's presence had simply given Jenova time to gather her strength. Now she fought with a vengeance. Whereas before she had laid siege upon the castle of Sephiroth's mind, now she tore down the gates, stormed it, and pillaged.

Sephiroth's eyes opened, the emerald glow within flaring, a twisted smirk marring his face. He slowly rose to his feet.

_No… not again. Let me go!_

He reached out to take his sword… then let it go, this would be far more enjoyable with his bare hands.

_Damn you, vile bitch! Let go of my mind!_

_Make me, my child, you are so strong, after all…_

He left his room without a sound, not wanting to wake anyone until the deed was done.

_Oh, god, no…_

He entered her room, and two emerald gazes met, as strong, slender fingers wrapped around a slim, smooth throat – deep within them, there was recognition. This had happened before…

_In his most desperate hour while his mind was soft and weak, Sephiroth had almost let go but for the soft humming in the back of his skull. It came to him just as the voice urged him on. A brilliant blue light, so pure that it temporarily drove the sickness from him. He opened his eyes, jubiliant at the hum's return and the voice's quick retreat. A smile curled at his lips, genuine with joy. Quickly fading as he contemplated what his eyes showed him. A vision from his nightmares. His hand wrapped around a slim neck, frightened green orbs gazing at him lazily on the verge of death. Yes, he'd had a dream like this before. His memory being what it was, he rarely remembered once he awoke. But this one had haunted him. He dreamt of killing something so pure that'd stain his soul even until after his death…_

Aerith, however, had learned from her mistake, and was stronger now than she had been then, it was a struggle to speak but she tried, her eyes not scared, but pleading, "Stop, Sephiroth, you're stronger than this… fight her…" She didn't attempt to struggle against the hand around her throat – that was a battle that she could not win, the real struggle was for her assailant's mind.

His grip tightened about her neck, "She still talks… that will stop soon… choke the words from her throat…"

Aerith felt herself weakening, she could still breathe, but only just, part of her dimly aware that she wasn't getting enough air to sustain her. She realised that she was going to lose to Jenova yet again. "Please, Sephiroth… don't give in to her, you have to fight her… I know you can, you're stronger than her, Sephiroth… please…"

His glowing gaze flared once again, deep within his eyes, a hint of panic could be seen "Quiet! Impudent Cetra…" then, "Why does she still speak… how does she still breathe…?"

There was a hint of confusion, now, in his eyes, as his consciousness hung on the brink.

Aerith felt herself growing weaker still, eyes heavy, begging to drift shut. _So this is what I amount to, granted another life, only to fail again and die… No._ Even as victory flared in Sephiroth's eyes, renewed strength gathered in Aerith's…

"Stop it, Sephiroth!" Her voice uncharacteristically fierce – she would _not_ lose to Jenova again. With what strength remained in her limbs, she brought her open palm across Sephiroth's face.

There was a moment of shock. _No one_ slapped Sephiroth. Ever. As if the shock was too much for either Jenova or Sephiroth to grasp, bewilderment entered Sephiroth's eyes. And Sephiroth realised what he was doing.

His hands pulled away from her neck as if burned, eyes widening in sickened horror, staring at his hands as he held them in front of his face. "Oh god…"

Aerith slumped slightly, sitting on her bed, gasping for breath, hands leaping to her won throat, kneading the flesh that had been crushed under Sephiroth's fingers, knowing that it would bruise by morning. Her eyes followed Sephiroth's gaze to his hands, completely lost as to what to say or do, but her eyes took in his hands, and what she could see of his forearms, saw the fading scars, she stood up, moving to him.

"Aerith…I…"

"Your hands, what ha-," then she realised what might have happened to his hands, knowing Sephiroth, "Oh, Se-"

As if the horror of what he had done hadn't been enough, Aerith had seen what he had done to himself in previous times of weakness. _I am so… weak._ His pride wounded, he felt the sudden urge to be somewhere else, away from Aerith's compassionate, forgiving gaze. A gaze of which he was so unworthy.

"I must… leave…" no time for excuses, he just wanted to be away, he turned to leave, but stopped when he felt Aerith's hand on his shoulder.

"No, Sephiroth. I won't let her win again. You need me. Stay."

Sephiroth stayed immobile for a moment, then whispered an almost inaudible "Very well." Without looking to his victim and saviour even once, he walked to one of the spare beds and sat on the edge, his eyes shut, his head in his hands, fingers buried in long, pale hair. Aerith watched for a moment, then walked over to his bed, sitting behind him, eyes filled with concern and pity, one hand moving to his hair, smoothing it as a mother might with a child.

"…You okay, Sephiroth?" she winced even as she said it, it was such a cliché, and the answer an obvious negative – yet the situation wasn't exactly common, how was one supposed to comfort the person who, moments ago, had had his fingers around her throat?

"She's just… so damn strong." His voice filled with frustration and self-loathing, "And I'm so weak."

"You beat her, Sephiroth, you're still yourself, that's what counts."

"I needed your help – that's the thing, I … can't beat her without you," it was as if that admission, though he had known it for a long time, had to be torn from him, eating at his soul – he had never needed help to attain victory.

"So you need help. Everyone needs help eventually, Sephiroth. You may be the greatest warrior that ever lived, but you're still a human inside. And I will help you for as long as you need me."

Still human inside… the amount of times he had doubted that, those words were so soothing, even apart from her comforting, he wondered for a moment if she knew how much they helped, then dismissed the thought – of course she knew.

"Thank you, Aerith… I owe you… so much." He sighed quietly, calm for now.

"Shh… It's okay, I need you as much as you need me, Sephiroth… I'd be dead now, if you hadn't killed those monsters… Now, we should both be getting some sleep. Goodnight, Sephiroth, sleep well…"

"You too, Aerith."

And once they had settled into their respective beds, they did.

**-End Chapter 9-**

**Author's Notes:**

· Wasn't sure what to call the chapter, so if you don't think the name fits… I apologise.****

· Overall, I don't think I was very pleased with this chapter – while I liked what happened, it's been too long since I wrote Chapter 8, and my writing style's slipping. So I'm sorry 'bout that too.****

· Also, I'd like to apologise for the end of Chapter 8, I don't think I wrote it as well as I should have, as it looked far too much like Aerith and Seph were united and such, whereas Aerith was just distressed and Sephiroth protective. I tried to rewrite it, but it still sucked, so I'm gonna leave it the same :-/****

· Lastly, sorry it's been so long, but I've just started my last set of school exams and my computer caught Sasser a few weeks back, so that slowed me down.****

· Review me!****


	10. Returning

**Chapter 10: Returning.**

The next morning, the two travellers resumed their journey and, shortly thereafter, reached the southern coast of the East Continent, and Sephiroth noticed his mistake. He stood, with Aerith beside him, staring across the expanse of water in front of him – he knew how to get across, but he hadn't adjusted his plans to account for having Aerith with him.

"So… how are we getting across?"

Sephiroth's lips twisted into a grimace, "I… am not sure."

Aerith looked to her feet for a moment, she knew Sephiroth must have had a plan – and if there wasn't one, it must be because circumstances had changed – because she was here.

"Oh…"

The two of them stared into space, wondering how this problem could be solved – the Planet had guided them this far, so there must be a way that didn't involve the trek back to Junon, or the Chocobo Ranch. So deep in thought were they, in fact, that they almost failed to notice the surge in the Planet's voice, a gentle humming that grew constantly louder, until eventually Sephiroth turned to his companion.

"What's that sound…?"

Snapped out of her reverie, Aerith heard it "The Planet i-… you hear it too?" she blinked lightly, surprised, then had her attention stolen as the ground in front of them began to glow a distinctly familiar shade of green. "What…?"

As the two of them watched, tendrils of green light, began to snake out of the ground, travelling up and over the channel in front of them, entwining around each other, moving ever faster, dropping over the horizon and, though they couldn't see so far, they could certainly guess, plunging into the earth on the other side. After a few short, stunning moments, the tendrils of Life Stream had formed a glowing green, transparent bridge, approximately three metres across. The bridge flashed once, the colour of Sephiroth's gaze, and was no longer transparent.

Sephiroth was the first to react, walking calmly to the bridge, placing one foot on the surface and leaning forward, gradually shifting all his weight onto the bridge of light. It stood firm. He turned to Aerith.

"I assume we cross, then…?" Ever calm in the face of unexpected events.

Aerith listened to the Planet, though the message was clear any way, and then nodded slowly. The two set off across the bridge, Aerith staying close to Sephiroth, keeping her gaze off of what lay below the bridge of light.

And so the journey continued, fairly monotonously, despite the recent surprise. The bridge brought them ever higher and higher from the water below, curving shallowly in the air, yet so expansive that the curve still brought them high into the air.

Aerith walked close beside, and slightly behind her companion, as far from both edges as possible, not comfortable with the idea of walking on such a narrow bridge for such a long distance, hoping that the walk would pass without incident. It didn't.

As the two companions walked, a squawking could be heard from the west, growing louder. Sephiroth turned to check what the commotion was, only to see a huge winged beast approaching. The monster was mostly dark, and sparsely feathered, with head and tongue of a snake, and bat-like wings, screeching for blood as it sighted prey in the strangest of places…

"A Zuu… stay back Aerith," Sephiroth realised the folly of his words as he said them, and corrected himself "Blast it… just stay low."

The monster drew closer, and Sephiroth drew Masamune, cursing his luck. The monster wasn't exactly a challenge – except that it could fly, and he had barely any space to manoeuvre, yes, he had his wing, but he could only glide with that, and would most likely land himself in the water below if he tried.

Well, enough of that for now. Sephiroth pushed doubts aside and focused on his approaching enemy, Masamune's hilt held close to his cheek, above his shoulder.

The Zuu swooped; trying to claw at Sephiroth's eyes, Sephiroth slashed, the Zuu pulled up and flew past, narrowly avoiding the blade. The silver-haired warrior spun gracefully and thrust Masamune toward the Zuu as it passed – the Zuu spun, another narrow miss.

The Zuu flew in a rightwards circle, to attempt another attack. Aerith, deciding to make herself useful, drew her staff and cast Protect and Haste in quick succession on Sephiroth and herself. The Zuu flew closer.

Suddenly, the Zuu swooped, unexpectedly short of the mark, aiming lower – going for Aerith's throat. Everything seemed to happen in a flash; in fright from the Zuu's attack, Aerith took a step back, even as Sephiroth stepped forward, plunging Masamune through the bird's chest, Aerith tripped over Sephiroth's leg, lost her footing, lost the bridge. Fell.

Sephiroth sheathed his sword as the dead monster faded to nothing, and –

"Sephiroth!" Shocked, hearing his name, Sephiroth spun in time to see Aerith drop over the edge of the bridge.

Without thinking, he let his single wing unfurl, and dived off after her. Feeling the wind rushing past him as he dropped, he swooped back toward the bridge, grabbing Aerith as she fell, just about managing to bring his glide into an upward curve, wondering how high he could get them before they, fell. The bridge drew closer, Sephiroth's free arm stretched out, fingers grasping, feeling his momentum slacking, gravity beginning to take hold… And then the feel of something in his hand, he grasped tightly, just in time to feel gravity take hold, pulling both their weights down against his arm.

Aerith fell, and as she fell, she screamed her companion's name, and braced for the end, eyes shut tight, trying to shut out what was happening around her. It wasn't until Sephiroth had been hanging from the bridge for a few moments, holding her, that she realised everything had stopped, and hesitantly opened her eyes, looked up, and saw Sephiroth.

A moment later, she realised she was shaking with fear. She took a few deep breaths, calmed herself down, and whispered a shaken, "Thank you…" to her saviour.

The two watched each other's eyes for a few moments, in silence until, eventually, Aerith dropped her gaze. That was twice that Sephiroth had saved her now, and she was grateful deeply, but that didn't change the fact that she couldn't hold his gaze for more than a few moments before needing to look away. Maybe it was that, despite saving her twice, he had killed her once, and tried twice besides that, maybe it was the eerie way which his glowing gaze seemed to shed light on one's soul, exposing it to him, maybe it was the disturbing way in which his physical beauty contrasted with what he was capable of, maybe it was even just an effect of everything that had passed between them. Whatever it was, part of her still feared her saviour.

Sephiroth's hand gripped Aerith's waist gently yet firmly, so that he needn't carry her weight with the rest of his arm instead, and lifted her slowly, the muscles in his arm straining with the effort – this wasn't the easiest way to carry a person, even for him, but he managed, lifting her to such a height that she could easily haul herself onto the bridge, sighing lightly once Aerith's gaze dropped from his own.

Once Aerith was safely on the bridge, he used his other arm to pull himself swiftly onto it after her, giving the arm that had been holding her a quick rest, then stretching both when he had both feet firmly on solid 'ground.'

"That was far too close… we're too vulnerable on this bridge, we should get onto the ground as quick as possible…"

Aerith nodded, casting Haste on both of them once more, a slight hint of fear still in her eyes as she looked to the walk ahead.

Sephiroth took Aerith's hand "I won't let you fall again, you have my word, Aerith. Now let's go."

Still holding her hand, Sephiroth set off at a run, just slow enough that Aerith could keep up, and Aerith, of course, followed.

In a cave, stranded in the middle of the West Continent, two figures had been waiting for a long, long time, both were tall, thin, and gave the impression of a being hovering on the edge of death, one male, one female. Then again, for Vincent and Lucrecia, two years hardly seemed like a very long time, ever since the turmoil that had come with the discovery of Jenova, Vincent and Lucrecia had done a lot of waiting.

Vincent sat quietly on the floor, Lucrecia in his arms, lightly stroking his lover's hair, thinking back…

_Vincent quietly walked into Lucrecia's Cave. It was dark as ever, and Vincent was hesitant, Lucrecia, the woman he loved, had seemed broken, ruined, the last time they met, had wanted to be rid of him as quickly as possible. Yet now that everything was over, Lucrecia was all he had left, and he had just as little right to walk in the world as she did. Ruined by Jenova, both of them._

_"Who goes there?" Even hoarsened and hollowed by half a death, Lucrecia's voice sounded like music to Vincent's ears._

_"It's me, Lucrecia."_

_"Vincent? …Please, leave."_

_"No, Lucrecia, I came for you, because you can't stay here, alone, forever…-"_

_"I'm not leaving here, Vincent. Look at me! Look what Jenova has done to me…"_

_"I haven't come to take you away, Lucrecia. I came to stay with you."_

_Lucrecia watched Vincent before, trying to fathom why he would still concern himself with her, even trapped, as she was, between the living and the dead. After a few moments, she turned away, unable to bear his gaze._

_"Please, Vincent…just leave me alone… I…"_

_The torment in Lucrecia's voice seemed, to Vincent, to grip his soul, tear it to shreds. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders._

_"Why are you so ashamed, Lucrecia…?" he knew why, he was the same, only just human, unable to die, "Jenova warped me, as well… I am… like you. I have no place left in the world," the words burned as they left his lips, the admission scarring him, yet he had to be honest. "I am going to stay, keep you company, because that is all I have left."_

_"I don't understand… why…-?" her voice was sorrowful, bewildered._

_"Because I love you."___

_Lucrecia realised, then, that she would not be rid of him, and gave in. After all, why shun him, after all they had been through, when he was the only one that could understand him?_

_"Vincent…"_

_"Yes, Lucrecia?"___

_"Thank you.."_

_Vincent replied only by holding her a little tighter, and eventually the two sank to the floor, sitting._

_And there the two stayed, for nearly two years, occasionally discussing the events that had brought them here, yet mostly silent. Barely alive, they didn't need to move._

"Something feels different… wrong…" Lucrecia's voice was soft, mildly curious, filled with her usual sorrow.

When one had been sitting still for two years, with nothing to do but think, a certain affinity for the Planet's mood began to develop, after all, aside from their own voices, the Planet's was the only one left to hear.

"The Planet is frightened…"

They began to focus more on the Voice, after all, it hadn't been frightened in a long time. Lucrecia was the first to notice and she gasped, tears in her eyes, her voice an entangled mess of sorrow and joy when she spoke…

"Sephiroth! My… my son is alive… then… that is why the Planet is scared…" She had long come to terms with the lie that Vincent had told her long ago to preserve her feelings.

"I don't think so… listen closer…"

For hours, the two of them sat in silence and did just that – listen, until they began to realise the truth.

"Jenova… it makes sense that she still lives…" there was a bitterness in her voice, it was that very trait – her constant survival, that had ruined their lives.

"Things must be bad, if the Planet has resurrected both Aerith and Sephiroth…" there was a short pause before he concluded, "I must go, they may need help."

Vincent gently released Lucrecia and stood, looking toward the Cave's mouth with trepidation.

"No, Vincent… stay with me, the Planet can look after itself, please…"

"I have to leave, Lucrecia, I am indebted…"

Lucrecia rose to her feet, standing in his path as she spoke, "You still feel guilt for something you couldn't have avoided, why? Look at us, Vincent, we are dead, the Planet is not our concern."

Vincent's clawed hand clenched tightly, "I could have tried harder. And we're not dead, Lucrecia," he was reluctant to be so harsh, but Lucrecia needed to see their situation for what it was, "and we never will be. We're both here because there is nothing for us out there," his hand waved in the direction of the cave mouth, "but you, you're just hiding from things you don't want to face! We have things to do, your _son_, is out there, Lucrecia, stop hiding and do what you know you must!"

"That was cruel, Vincent…" by the end of his short speech, tears were running slowly down her cheeks, she was distraught that he could be so blunt, ashamed at her own cowardice, and longed to see her child, "but you're right, of course."

"I'm sorry, Lucrecia, but…–"

"I know, Vincent… let's go…"

Aerith and Sephiroth stepped off of the bridge of light, Sephiroth still holding Aerith's hand, it didn't occur to either of them that it was no longer necessary. As the bridge of light dissipated into strands of spirit energy, and returned to the Planet, the companions turned and began walking toward Mideel, Aerith staying close to Sephiroth, though neither of them said a word, each in their own little world.

_Sephiroth is… stronger now, I think he's right. If I stay close, Jenova won't be able to control him… but I can't stay close forever, and it's not likely Jenova will get Sephiroth to kill me slowly next time…_, Aerith thought, _I will just have to stay by his side until this is all over._

 She also wondered, briefly, why she was so determined to save him, thinking back to the first time she had tried. Yes, part of it was duty, but thinking back to before Jenova had taken control… she had to admit, at least to herself, that part of her cared for him. As it was, she couldn't even look him in the eyes for long, without being consumed by fear, despite his physical beauty – and she would be the first to admit that Sephiroth was beautiful. Some things just weren't meant to be.

_…She is quiet now. She always is with Aerith near, what is it about Aerith, which frightens she who destroyed the Cetra so? … Never mind, I will find out eventually, and as long as she stays silent, I am myself._ Sephiroth risked a glance at his companion, a hint of admiration in his gaze, _so small and beautiful, yet so strong, I would be ruined without her._

He knew she needed him as well, to protect her, and he knew that he would, because he owed her as much. Around her… he felt strange, though he couldn't say what it was he felt.

Before long, the companions reached Mideel. The town was in the process of being rebuilt, though neither of them had seen the town since its destruction – Aerith had never seen it at all. Sephiroth looked at the ruined town, eyes riveted to the chasm in the centre, leading down to the Lifestream, and thought back.

Sephiroth remembered almost everything that had led to his death, and knew some things that he couldn't have remembered, which he had concluded to himself was knowledge imparted on him by the Planet. He didn't remember this, though, he wondered if it was a lapse in his memory… or if something else had done it.

"Did I do this…?" Aerith didn't answer.

The two of them stayed still for a moment, staring, before Sephiroth spoke out again "Well, we came here for a reason…"

They looked around, then walked to one of the town's citizens, Sephiroth letting Aerith do the talking, after all, she was better at it than he was.

"Excuse me, but do you know a man called Cloud Strife? He's about so tall," she brought her hand up a little above her head, a little higher than Sephiroth's chin, "Spikey, blonde hair, bright blue eyes… I was told he lived here, now?"

"Yeah, I know Cloud, nice, quiet lad…" she pointed south, "If you go to the last house over there, you should find him, he's almost always home."

"Thank you very much."

"You're welcome."

Sephiroth nodded softly, noting how strange it was that, famous as he had once been, no one recognised him, just two years later. The two walked to the other end of the tiny town, around the giant hole in the Planet, to where they had been told they would find Cloud. They reached the door, and knocked.

A few moments later, Cloud stood in the doorway, facing Aerith, Tifa stood slightly behind him, and seeing the two of them, Sephiroth standing behind Aerith, his face as unrevealing of emotion as ever, Cloud reacted almost instantly.

"Tifa, get my sword…" And he charged…

**-End Chapter 10-**

**Author's Notes:**

· Well, the Vincent - Lucrecia conversation was the hardest part, not very happy with that.****

· Not sure how the end came out, tell me what you think.****


	11. Conflict

**Author's Notes: **

· As you might expect this Chapter's gonna be a lil violent, and I'm not sure if I'm any good writing this kinda stuff, so… umm, we'll see?****

· Read and Review.****

**Chapter 11: Conflict.**

"Tifa, get my sword…" said Cloud, but he didn't bother to wait before attacking.

The spiky blonde-haired hero charged straight past Aerith, lunging at Sephiroth, one fist clenching as he did so, thrust directly into the enemy's jaw – a blow that would have killed most, simply stunned the silver-haired warrior, despite the sickening crunch of his jaw under Cloud's fist.

Sephiroth took an involuntary step backwards, but didn't defend himself, after all he had done, he deserved this. The next blow landed on Sephiroth's gut, the pain doubled him over on instinct, arms coming to hold his stomach, yet he welcomed it as sweet, sweet penance.

Cloud realised he had the upper hand, but wasn't surprised – after all, he had bested Sephiroth in the North Crater, and this time he had attacked quickly, without warning, he didn't stop to think why Sephiroth wasn't fighting back. His free hand wrapped itself in Sephiroth's long, silver hair, and lifted his face back, his own icy gaze filled with hatred as they looked into Sephiroth's eyes as his fist slammed into the man's ribs – not satisfied without the sound of bone snapping under the blow, he punched again…

It seemed a hundred blows had landed faster than Aerith could blink – she should have expected this, but she had been more worried about how they would react to her own presence, by the time she had even thought to protest, which was by no means slow, Tifa had already returned, holding one of the few of Cloud's swords she could carry – Murasame.

"Cloud, stop it! He's with me! Why aren't you listening?! He was _protecting_ me!" Aerith screamed, Tifa seemed not to hear, and Sephiroth was too filled with the love of battle to listen…

Not satisfied without the sound of bone snapping under the blow, Cloud punched again, and was satisfied, then surged forward, his right leg hooking forward, round the legs of his enemy, pulling back, toppling him in a simple manoeuvre, and then there was Tifa, offering him Murasame, he took the sword, and levelled it with Sephiroth's throat.

Sephiroth simply smiled.

And then it sunk in, Sephiroth was not fighting back…

"Why aren't you defending yourself…?" hatred filled his voice, it seemed there was no one in his world now, except himself and his enemy, even Tifa had been nothing more than a hand holding his sword for him.

"I have caused enough pain, I wouldn't want to hurt you anymore… besides… this…," with his eyes he gestured to his own wounds, "this is what I deserve."

"Fight me… revenge is worthless if I can't defeat you." He was shaking with the hatred, years of trying to be like him, and then the betrayal, everything he had had, lost at Sephiroth's hands, he needed to remember - he was stronger now.

"No, I won't hurt innocents anymore."

"You remember when we last fought," Cloud sneered, "You don't need to worry about hurting me."

Indignation flared in Sephiroth's eyes – he would repent, but he would _not_, be called weak. _Very well,_ he thought_,__ if he wants a fight…_

In flash, Masamune was drawn, pushing Murasame away from his throat, giving him room. Sephiroth rolled back, away from Cloud and flipped to his feet. Standing facing Cloud, he turned his face to one side, and spat, ridding himself of a loose tooth, ignoring the pain wracking his form.

"If it is what you want… come at me." A simple invitation and Cloud took it, lunging forward.

Steel clashed against steel as the two warriors began circling each other, beginning to feel alive again, fighting the first worthy opponent they had had in far too long. Cloud thrust and Sephiroth side-stepped gracefully, bringing Masamune in a horizontal arc towards Cloud's throat, Cloud brought Murasame up with a twist of his wrist, to knock Masamune aside.

Then, in a flash it was over, Sephiroth, with a deft flick of his wrists, spun Masamune about Murasame's blade, ducking, and forcing Cloud to do the same, once his sword was on the other side of Cloud's, he stepped back, and before Cloud could blink, had brought the blunt edge of Masamune across Cloud's knuckles.

"Fuck!" In natural reaction to the blow, Cloud's hand's opened, and Masamune's sharp edge was at Cloud's throat before the other sword could even touch the ground.

"Jenova was powerful… but she was unskilled. You defeated her, but you will never be more skilled than me, Cloud."

Sephiroth sheathed Masamune and realisation dawned in his eyes.

"I… I'll be back in a second…"

As Cloud shuffled off, to take Murasame back to its resting place, he was deep in thought – he had learned a lot about Sephiroth on the journey to hunt him, and he finally thought he understood what happened eight years ago, understood the Sephiroth he had faced just a moment ago, was the same he had known all those years ago – that the man who had taken everything from him was only Sephiroth in the physical sense. He had a lot of thinking to do.

Meanwhile Tifa's gaze was locked on Sephiroth – and she didn't have his understanding, all she saw was a man repentant of his sins, and he had hurt her too much for that to matter. He had killed her father, burned her home town to the ground, struck her down when she had tried to stop him. She needed revenge for that, had to make a physical effort not to shake with the anticipation.

"Aerith… could you go check on Cloud?"

They're gazes locked for a moment, suspicion in Aerith's gaze – Tifa was acting strange, she wondered if the younger woman could be trusted alone with Sephiroth, when he was so clearly just one accusation away from being suicidal.

On the other hand… Aerith's nature was to trust, and she didn't expect Tifa to be acting normal, when both of them had just come back from the dead, she didn't want to support conflict within the group… and she knew any voiced suspicions would work against that. She dropped her gaze and walked off to find Cloud…

Which left Sephiroth and Tifa alone, the smiles of those long kept from their desires flitted across both of their faces. Sephiroth saw the hatred in Tifa's eyes – pondered perhaps if that anger could outweigh her inclination her sense of right and wrong long enough to give him what he had been looking for since he awoke.

Tifa eyed Sephiroth for a while, now she could take what she had wanted – revenge. Yet she couldn't help but be slightly startled – already Sephiroth's jaw seemed to have reset itself, no more blood on his lips – he healed far too fast. No matter. She suspected he wouldn't fight back.

The moment she judged the others would be far enough not to hear, Tifa grabbed for Sephiroth's throat, held it, squeezed as hard as she could with both hands, choking the life from him.

He smiled, his eyes looked… grateful.

_How can he want this, damnit, why doesn't he show regret, pain?!_ Yes, wrong as it was, she knew she wanted him to suffer, the hate welled, bloomed within her, her right hand left his throat, tears coming to her eyes as she struck at his face, three, four, five times in succession. Even the Great Sephiroth was seeing stars after those blows, dizzied.

She released his throat, put all her weight into a sixth blow to his chin, felling the silver-haired warrior, though he made no effort to stay on his feet. He lay on the ground, a smirk on his face, welcoming the darkness he hoped would come. He slid Masamune from its sheathe, threw it to her feet as if it were weightless – he liked the idea of poetic justice.

"Why don't you do it, Tifa? Finish what you attempted eight years ago…"

And, tears running down her cheeks at the memory of wrongs that should have been forgotten, tears of hatred, sorrow, shame, she did. She leaned down and raised the cumbersome sword, and plunged it into his chest.

As his own sword plunged between his ribs, neatly piercing his right lung and leaving through his ribs again, plunging, on its own weight, into the ground below, Sephiroth felt himself tense, and shudder with the pain, gasping, tasting blood in his throat, he swallowed, smiled, and let the darkness take him, as the world faded, he could just hear the voice of an Angel, seeming to whisper in the distance…

"Sephiroth… Tifa… How could you?!"

Aerith could only be glad she returned before Sephiroth returned, once again, to the Planet, she was shocked at the sight before her eyes, Tifa's hands still on Masamune's hilt, the sword protruding from a widening red patch on its fallen owner's form.

"Sephiroth… Tifa… How could you?!"

She ran forward, a green light already forming around her, hoping her magic could save him, but Tifa stood in her way, the green light of magic coming from her, she said simply, "Silence!"

And with that word, Aerith felt crushed, she had nothing on her to relieve herself from the magic-inhibiting spell, and without her magic, she couldn't help Sephiroth.

"Why are you doing this?! Let me help him!" She was distraught.

"He killed my father, so I killed him." Her words were firm, as her own tears cleared, brooking no argument…

Sephiroth was gone, and in his body, two forces that had fought since his rebirth, continued to do so, even as he faded away to nothing. In the darkness he was distinctly aware of the two forces, one seemed to be a warm, green light, the other angry, red. They seemed to be conversing. Yet the part of Sephiroth that was the Soldier, purely rational, understood that these perceptions were simply his interpreting them in a way he could understand, relating them to the senses he had had when alive.

_He is dying. This cannot be._

_Pity, that, you're strongest weapon against me, and now, he dies._

_You claim him as your weapon as much as we claim him ours, Jenova._

_Nevertheless, I shall see you all rot, soon._

_Yet… neither of us wishes him to die._

_True. This would not be a problem if, he was mine, I would not let him die._

_Very well. A truce… for now._

Sephiroth knew these forces, and terror filled him as the green light faded, letting the red fill him, and the darkness began to fade. Just as he became certain he would not awaken as himself, he watched the green surge again, the titanic struggle for his soul resuming, he wondered what he would be when everything resumed.

"That is not the man who killed your father, let me help him!" she was filling with anger, now, despite her usually loving nature, there was no time to explain, he was dying. Her arm rose, bringing her open hand across Tifa's cheek. In her desperation, she didn't stop to think how she would heal him without magic.

"How – dare – you?!" Fury raged in Tifa's eyes. Tifa was stronger than Aerith, her blow knocked the older woman clear to the ground.

And this was the sight Sephiroth woke up to. His eyes opened calmly and he rose to his feet before surveying the situation. Tifa was… attacking Aerith. No, he wouldn't allow that. His hand shot out with the same unstoppable swiftness that had made him the most feared man on the Planet, fingers locked in Tifa's hair, yanking her from Aerith, turning her to face him, lifting her to tip-toe.

And hesitated, his thoughts racing. _Kill them! Kill them all! No! Tifa… Tifa hurt Aerith… Then kill **her**! No one may cross you, all who anger you shall die, rivers of blood shall flow!_

Tifa was shaking, seeing the fury and shakiness in Sephiroth's eyes, the sword, still in his chest. Sephiroth's emerald, glowing gaze darting around, eventually settling on Aerith as she sat up, smiling at him, relief in her eyes, as well as concern.

He lifted the young woman clean from her feet, ignoring her gasps of pain at being lifted by her hair, pulled her close, whispering calmly into her ear, his voice icy.

"You shall never – harm – Aerith. Ever. You may try, but you will not succeed, and I vow you will regret it if you do."

His words said, he simply tossed her aside, to land on the ground outside her home. Gritting his teeth behind closed lips, hiding the pain it caused from those around him, he pulled his sword from his chest, and sheathed it. Clenching his fists, it stung that he knew even an open wound, straight through his chest, would heal.

He walked quietly into the home, glad that he found an empty room quickly, claiming it as his own for now, he sat down on one of the beds and winced, gasping out in agony, now that he was alone.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, which shortly opened, admitting Aerith, who shut the door behind her. She looked to Sephiroth quietly for a moment, smiling softly. In spite of his pain, Sephiroth couldn't help but smile back gently.

"Lie down, Sephiroth, let me heal you," Aerith understood that Sephiroth would heal, was not too shocked, once it had happened that he survived, as she understood what he was, but she knew that wounds like that, fatal or not, would hurt, a lot.

"You don't need too, I heal quickly." Even as he said those words, he let himself drop onto his back with a relieved sigh, and an agonised gasp.

"Yes, but this is quicker, beside, I owe you for standing up for me out there…" she smiled sweetly as she said that.

To Sephiroth's logical mind, the statement was, simply, flawed, for if she hadn't attempted to heal him, he wouldn't have needed to protect her. Stunted as his humanity was though, Sephiroth understood, to an extent that Aerith was trying to offer him a way out, without arguing for the sake of his pride. He took it.

As green light washed over him, he let out a sigh, feeling all his wounds bind, his body refreshed, yet he didn't bother sitting up, even now that he could – it was getting late, anyway, after all.

"Aerith…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"It was nothing, Sephiroth."

"Not for that, for… everything, you've tried so hard to save me, even when there are no rewards… even when I lose control… and try to…" he paused, found another set of words he couldn't make himself say, "try to hurt you. Thank you, you're truly an angel amongst mankind…" His eyes were shut as he spoke, unsure if it was because he wanted to sleep, or because he simply couldn't look at her while being so… open.

As Aerith listened, she smiled, feeling tears welling in her eyes at the joy brought simply by a little honest thanks. She wondered why it affected her so, why it was so rare for someone to thank her for her efforts, and pressed her lips to his hair, as a mother might to her son, whispering…

"No, thank you, Sephiroth," before departing to one of the other beds in the room, wondering if he had heard her words.

The next day, of course, things were… awkward. Sephiroth and Cloud sat in the swords' display room, Masamune and Murasame laid against their respective laps, looking so similar, yet so different, talking. Or rather, for the most part, Sephiroth talked, and Cloud listened.

Aerith spent most of her time in the guest bedroom, not talking to Tifa due to the tension left over from the previous night, Tifa, still holding a grudge, not daring to go near Aerith – she was no coward, but there were some things no sane woman would cross – and a man who could survive two pummelings and a sword through the chest, and still retain the strength to lift a human from the ground with one hand, that was definitely among them.

Back in the swords room, the two former enemies, former allies talked…

"I think I understand, now. Jenova controlled you, used you as… your avatar, I guess? Tried to use me in the same way? Then, how come she could control you… and not me?"

"Your comrades gave you a strength that I, in my naivety, shunned." They were both completely calm, two veteran warriors talking, all former quarrels forgotten, temporarily, at least, in the face of understanding.

"I see. But Jenova was… unskilled… so when we defeated everything she could throw at us… and she tried to use you to defeat me in a duel…"

"You destroyed me. Easily." There was pain in his eyes, but he understood now that, while he was needed, there were other ways he could repay his debts.

"Which brings us to one last thing… How are you and Aerith alive?"

"I can't say, but it is our belief that the Planet brought us back because we are needed. I am one of the strongest warriors to have ever lived, and she, the last Cetra, it seems logical we would be… useful. That, and the Planet guided us here, to you. Battle is our home."

"Then… what are we going to fight?" Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer.

"Jenova, which brings me to my question… do you have a means of travel?"

"Yes, we still have the Highwind… Cid left it with us…"

Sephiroth nodded, it all made sense now. "I thought so, then we have to gather your comrades…"

Cloud nodded, it was strange, but just talking with Sephiroth, so much more like the man he had looked up to years ago, yet wiser, having learned from his fall at Jenova's hands, it was almost as if the previous eight years had never happened.

**-End Chapter 11-**

**Author's Notes:**

· I'm tired as hell now, but all in all, I'm quite happy with that Chapter. Not sure about how the fighting came out, but forgive me if I feel a little pride at the last couple of scenes, and now everything's coming into place. If I follow my plan, there'll be five more chapters…****

· Review me, or I'll kill Aerith :P****


	12. A New Beginning

**Author's Notes:**

· First, sorry it took me so long to update, I've been busy and such. Currently in Sudan, which means I have lots of time, but can't control when I'm online to write.****

· I feel a little out of practice, so this may be a tad below standard, let us hope 'tisn't. On with the show.****

**Chapter 12: A New Beginning.**

In the cockpit of the Highwind, Aerith, Cloud and Sephiroth stood talking, Tifa absent, wandering the rest of the airship, avoiding the newcomers.

"Okay, we know we have to gather everyone, but where do we start? Last time I saw them all, they were scattered over the Planet, and for all we know, they've moved since."

"That reminds me," on saying those words, Sephiroth seemed suddenly a little more attentive, addressing Aerith, "Barret Wallace is staying with your mother in Kalm, I… told them that you were alive, so perhaps it would be best if we head there first, hopefully Barret will know where the others are, and I'm sure your mother would want to see you."

"My mother…" for a moment, Aerith was stunned, it had been so long since she saw her adoptive mother, and in the haste of everything that had happened since her rebirth, she hadn't even given her a thought. She felt a pang of guilt at her own oversight, "it's been so long. Yes, I think that would be a wonderful idea." She smiled at the thought of a reunion with the woman who had looked after her selflessly for so long.

Thus, before long, the Highwind was being prepared for its first take off in two years. Tifa had taken the preparations on herself, as they would give her a reason to stay out of the way, and as such, Cloud and Sephiroth were still in the cockpit, now sparring, with Aerith sat quietly to one side, watching.

Cloud rushed at Sephiroth, Murasame's hilt held at his shoulder, the blade behind him, bringing the blade toward Sephiroth's neck, flat first, after all, they were only training. The blow missed its mark, as Sephiroth ducked gracefully under the blade, and spun round to the rear of the younger warrior, backing away a few steps.

"That's not a meat cleaver, and I'm not a lump of meat, Cloud. You'll never hit me like that, didn't they teach you to wield a sword in Shinra?" When they were training, it really did seem that past events had been forgotten.

Sephiroth slipped back into his usual battle stance, waiting as Cloud came at him again, this time slower, mimicking his teacher's stance, lunging once he was within distance, then, as Sephiroth sidestepped, bringing the sword into an arc toward his back – Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, impressed, bringing Masamune's hilt in front of his own eyes as he turned, the blade vertical, stopping Murasame in its path.

"Much better."

"Thank you."

With that, the two fell into an intricate series of slashes, thrusts, feints and parries, which seemed to Aerith, incredibly graceful, a dance of death.

As the dance continued, it almost became subconscious, each subtle reaction to the other's movements coming without a moment's thought as the two warriors let themselves feel the thrill of battle, and then, deciding to call the session to a close, Sephiroth gave Cloud an opening to attack, and as the other took it, brought Masamune to parry, twisting the blade slightly as he did so, knocking Cloud's guard open, and bringing the flat of Masamune to his ribs.

As the two slipped out of their stances, sheathing their swords, Cloud couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "I _thought_ you were going easy on me."

"You wouldn't learn if I ended every spar the moment it began," at his next words, the silver haired warrior allowed himself a small smirk, "besides, you seem a lot happier when you're sparring, who am I to take that away from you?"

"Well, that's true, at least… I think we were born to fight, you and I."

Sephiroth blinked at that statement, not having expected it, and gave it a few moments' thought.

"I disagree… I think our dissatisfaction when not fighting comes from Jenova. I will admit, there _is_ enjoyment in sparring with a worthy opponent… but since I awakened, Jenova's hold on me was lessened… and I find, with it, so has my thrill for battle." His words were soft, slow, and, Aerith noted as she watched, he winced on both mentions of the name 'Jenova.'

"I see…,"there was a slight note of doubt and confusion in the younger man's words, after all, he didn't like to concede that perhaps he was still more under Jenova's control than he had thought.

"It would make sense, after all, Her prime objective was destruction, She would want us to love battle, destruction, killing."

"… You're right, of course, I just don't like thinking that She still has such a strong hold on me."

"I understand that, but it's vital that we remember how strong She is, or She will defeat us. If we stay focused, we will be free of Her soon."

"That seems uncharacteristically optimistic of you, Sephiroth."

"I know, but I have my reasons…" a soft pause, as he pondered whether or not he should delve into them – after all, opening up to others wasn't exactly his strong point, "I-"

"Everything's ready, Cloud, the Highwind's prepared for take off."

All eyes turned momentarily to Tifa as she entered the cockpit, Sephiroth thanking the convenient escape from the rest of the conversation, leaving the others wondering what he had been about to say.

"…Thanks, Tif. Okay, we'd better be going then. No time to waste."

"Indeed. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to head below deck," with Sephiroth left the cockpit, Aerith following with a simple, silent nod to excuse herself, as Cloud set a course for  Kalm.

**-End Chapter 12-**

**Auther's Notes:**

· As I expected, I don't think this Chapter is up to standard, I'll leave the decision as to whether or not I should rewrite it at some point up to you all.****

· The Chapter was shorter than I expected it to be, but this is because I decided to take the events that would have made up the Chapter (originally called Gathering) and spread them over a few more Chapters, adding some stuff, and changing others. Which means more Chapters for you all! Yay!****

· Review me as always.****


	13. Family

**Author's Notes:**

· Woah. Okay so it's been a while since my last chapter. Sorry .;;

· Having read over the last 12 chapters, lost my plan, and such, this probably won't take the direction I originally planned, but it won't be very different.

· Probably still rusty, but with such gaps between chapters, that's just how it's gonna be. Apologies.

**Chapter 13: Family.**

The Highwind landed a short distance outside of Kalm, and before long, a knock sounded on the door of Barret's home. Once again, Barret answered, opening the door to be greeted by a host of familiar faces.

"Cloud, Tifa... Aerith. So you're really alive," his voice softer than usual, stunned, until he remembered himself, "Well, come in, then! Don't be standin' round like a fool!"

Smirking slightly, Sephiroth stood to one side, as the others, grinning, walked into the house, then followed them quietly, this moment was theirs, not his.

As Cloud and his companions entered the house, Elmyra Gainsborough descended the stairs and saw her daughter. Shocked for a moment, a hand held to her heart, it took her a moment to realise the reality of the situation. Her daughter had been returned to her.

"Aerith…?"

Hearing her name, Aerith looked to see her adoptive mother standing at the foot of the stairs. Tears coming to her eyes, she ran to her, embracing her tightly, "Mother!"

"Oh, my, Aerith, it… it's really you. I'm so glad you're safe…"

* * *

While mother and daughter embraced, another reunion went on only a few feet away. After Tifa let go of Barret, and let her attention be drawn away by Marlene, Cloud, grinning slightly, shook Barret's hand firmly.

"Good to see you again, Barret."

"Same to you, Cloud… but what's the occasion. Not like ya to make social calls."

A brief chuckle at Barret's bluntness, and Cloud opened his mouth to reply, but Sephiroth cut him short. "That can wait. You all haven't seen each other in... I don't know how long. Matters will become very difficult, very quickly. Take a moment to relax. We can wait until tomorrow for a mission statement. I will be outside for a moment."

"Nonsense. You'll sit down and have a meal with the rest of us, young man." Sephiroth had already turned to leave when he heard the voice, and Elmyra pondered briefly if her words had been a good idea. The tension between the youths was thick in the air, but they would need to learn to be comfortable around each other, if they were going to manage in their trials.

Chuckling silently for a moment, Sephiroth nodded, "If you insist… thank you, Ms Gainsborough, for your hospitality," his voice calm and even as ever, as he went to the table, and seated himself, the others staring a moment before following.

* * *

As a family, the heroes ate, and drank, some talking more than others, all thanking their hostess sincerely afterwards. After all, they had all lost their own families in the past, and it had been a long time since they had eaten such a delicious meal.

"Well, guys, it's getting dark, and we've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, we should get some sleep." The idea was Cloud's, of course, but all agreed.

"I'm afraid we've only got the one spare room, so I'm not sure where to put you all."

"It's no matter, Ms Gainsborough, I will stay at the local inn, I wouldn't want to impose."

"I'll do the same, mom, and Cloud and Tifa can have the spare room."

"Are you sure that's okay? You shouldn't have to sleep in an inn with family nearby…"

"Don't be silly, mom, it's only for the night, we'll be close by, and this way everyone can sleep in a bed."

"Well… alright, then, if you're sure that's best, I'll see you i-"

Elmyra was cut short by the sound of a knock at the door. On his feet instant, Sephiroth strode to the door saying no more than, "I'll get it." He opened the door, and on the other side, saw two face. One was most certainly familiar, ghostly, it was the face of a man that looked no older than himself, yet was old enough to be his father. Vincent Valentine. Yet the other was unfamiliar.

Memories that weren't his own shot through his brain, playing one after an other, flowing torrentially within his consciousness. The Planet's knowledge, filling in the gaps in his own knowledge, replacing Jenova's lies, as a small defense against Her influence. He had never met this woman before, but he knew her.

For the first time, Sephiroth's voice caught. Emerald eyes wide, he was shocked, and could barely get the word "Mother…" to squeeze out of his throat. His eyes fixated on Lucrecia, taking in every detail. So small, frail, pale as a ghost, just like Vincent, ruined by Shinra and Jenova.

"Sephiroth… m-my son," tears came to the ghostly woman's eyes as she saw her son for the first time since she had given birth to him. Stepping forward, she held him tightly, as if afraid to let go, her voice hoarse. "I'm so sorry, Sephiroth, so sorry…"

Stunned, Sephiroth was clueless as to how he should react standing there, he looked down at her, hands moving to her shoulders gently. "It… it's okay, mother, none of this was your fault. Stop blaming yourself."

For a moment, Vincent watched mother and son, before nodding softly and walking into the house, to catch up with his former allies.

* * *

It was strange, and a testament to the impact ShinRa had had on the General's life, Aerith thought, that despite Sephiroth's ability to read people, he was rarely sure of the right thing to say in situations such as this. It brought a smile to her face that on this occasion he had chosen well.

Watching for only a moment longer, she turned her attention back to the table. This was definitely an interesting little development, though she couldn't help but wonder how Sephiroth would deal with it.

For his part, Vincent, never one to mince words, walked to the table, stating simply, "Evening, everyone. It's been a while."

After a brief pause, the one-time allies burst into laughter, and greeted their comrade.

* * *

Before long, Sephiroth returned to the table, Lucrecia following quietly behind him. His gaze met Vincent's, and the two nodded briefly. They both knew why they were here, there was no need for further words. Besides, neither was good with awkward situations, and the last time they had met, they had been enemies.

Turning to the others, Sephiroth spoke in his characteristically even voice, "Barret, Cloud, Aerith, Tifa, Ms. Gainsborough… this is Lucrecia, my mother. Now, we had all better get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. So sleep well… and thank you, again, Ms. Gainsborough, for your hospitality."

With a nod, which almost seemed a bow, Sephiroth turned, a distant look in his eyes, and strode in his usual manner, out of the house, Aerith, Vincent and Lucrecia following, the former with a polite goodbye, and a quick hug for her mother, the latter, both with no more than an acknowledging nod.

Of course, the four who left the household all checked into the local inn, and before long everyone was resting, waiting for sleep to take them.

* * *

Vincent and Lucrecia, of course, lay, or rather sat, together, needing no sleep, being what they were. Lucrecia's head resting on Vincent's shoulder, they spoke softly.

"Sephiroth… he was just as you described him, love, he looks so strong, but… his humanity, they stole it from him."

"I wouldn't give up on his humanity yet, Lucrecia. There's guilt in his eyes," _just like my own_, he thought, though he kept it silent, "and Aerith is with him, she will keep Jenova at bay, and Sephiroth… it is just a suspicion, but I think he is protective of her. I think he will be fine."

"…You're right. It's too early to despair. Besides, he's so strong, and with the Cetra, and their allies, Jenova will be hard pressed to succeed where she has failed before…"

* * *

_This is Lucrecia, my mother…_ the words played over and over in Tifa's mind as she lay next to Cloud, her head resting on his chest, each off in their own little world.

In the rush that had been their mission to stop Meteor, Tifa had forgotten about their little stop in Lucrecia's cave. Sephiroth had a mother. In her hatred, she had almost killed him. The whole situation was… confusing. He had killed her father, almost all her friends and family. Revenge had been a simple idea, but what if Sephiroth had died, and they had still come here, and met his mother? Wouldn't she just bad as him? Or, worse, as bad as he _had been_, now that he had changed. And what of this change? That she couldn't begin to understand. Lastly… she had run him through with his sword, and he had… she shuddered at the thought. Should she be scared of that, or relieved that he was on their side?

It was all too confusing, but Cloud seemed to understand, she would talk to him, when they had time, now she would sleep.

* * *

_So. Jenova's alive. Sephiroth is sane. Aerith is alive. And it's all happened so quickly. _A smirk played on Cloud Strife's lips as his eyes cast a sapphire glow on the ceiling. This was how things were meant to be. Dangerous, and in need of his sword, and with his former idol, now mentor, at his side. For now, not even the shadow of a doubt passed through his mind. He would prepare, he would wait, he would fight. Jenova would fall. He wouldn't let a lack of confidence hinder him.

And for now? He would rest…

* * *

_Lucrecia. My mother. My _real _mother. And to think, I had never seen her before…_ How was he supposed to feel? Joyous, to meet the woman who gave birth to him, when he had never once seen her before? Sorrowful, mourning yet another thing that ShinRa had taken from him? All he felt was minor irritation that he felt neither – he was long past mourning what part of his humanity he had been denied – and sympathy for his mother, who had had her only child taken from her at birth.

Things would be awkward, he was sure – he had no idea how to act toward her, but he knew he would most likely just treat her like everyone else, what else could he do? Besides – he needed to stop thinking on these things, take his own advice, and rest.

So, lying on his back on the floor near Aerith's bed, he closed his eyes, and let sleep take him.

* * *

As the green glow on the ceiling suddenly disappeared, Aerith smiled. Turning to one side, she glanced over the edge of her bed, watching him resting, peaceful. _So calm, so peaceful, he doesn't even seem to resent the thought of needing help, anymore…_ That was certainly a good sign. A sign that the great Sephiroth was becoming more human.

Watching him, her mind wandered back to another time, so many years ago, when he had needed her help. Her mind's eye recalled a kiss, her first, given by him… and she wondered, cheeks reddening slightly, why that memory had been the most prominent.

This time would not be like the last. Now, Sephiroth was stronger, and the Planet's weapon against Jenova. She knew Sephiroth was strong enough to defeat Her influence, and then defeat Her, utterly. Jenova would fall.

And thus, in the comfort of her confidence in Sephiroth and the others, Aerith, never a warrior, and thus unable to fall asleep at will, curled up, and let herself drift off…

* * *

And so our heroes slept, each wrapped in their own thoughts and dreams, to prepare for the day ahead.

**Author's Notes:**

Generally quite pleased with that chapter. Found it extremely difficult to do the bits between Seph and Lucy. Not pleased with that, and expecting much difficulty in the future. Damn. Sorry it's been so long, but this chapter was longer than the last few, so be happy! D Read and review me, peoples! 


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